


written in your heart

by lumheis



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: 00line, A little, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Arranged Marriage, Gen, Humor, Inspired by Barbie as The Princess and the Pauper (2004), M/M, Modern Royalty, a little like the parent trap i guess, ambiguous royal themes, prince! Jaemin, tailor! jeno, yangyang my rich king
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:54:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 30,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27772600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lumheis/pseuds/lumheis
Summary: long ago and far away, in a distant kingdom, two identical boys were born at the same time.one, a baby prince, jaemin. the other, a boy named jeno. with lives so different, one would think they’d never meet. but, fate decreed otherwise.(basically jeno and jaemin in the barbie adaptation of the princess and the pauper)
Relationships: Lee Jeno & Na Jaemin, Lee Jeno/Liu Yang Yang, Mark Lee/Na Jaemin
Comments: 18
Kudos: 75





	1. what would it be like to be

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Thank you for clicking on this! Just a few notes before the story starts, I just wanted to say that this fic was largely inspired by [this](https://twitter.com/SM_NCT/status/1216531304021315584?s=20)  
> dispatch photoshoot of Jeno and Jaemin wearing pink & blue suits! In no way am I actually insinuating that they look alike in real life, but for the sake of the plot we can just pretend. :)

The sun filters through the window, illuminating the darkness behind Jaemin’s closed eyelids in a soft yellow glow. He slowly opens them, blinking once, then twice, taking in the familiar sight of his bedroom. 

It’s quiet, and he basks in it, one of the few moments in the day where he can just allow himself to breathe. The enticing warmth of the mattress from his body welcomes him, and he lets out a pleasant sigh, burrowing his head into his pillow.

His eyes slip shut, and he’s falling back into the blessed embrace of sleep, the hue of yellow against his closed eyelids a comforting presence-

“We’re late!” A shrill voice yells, the staccato of footsteps crescendoing as it gets closer. He can vividly imagine the body that accompanies the voice, and he bemoans the loss of sleep as the door to his bedroom flings open, his royal advisor bursting in with similar enthusiasm.

Jaemin groans, sitting up before Doyoung can physically pull him out of bed- something that he’s experienced firsthand.

“Good morning,” Doyoung says, words rolling off of his tongue as a mere formality. Stopping at the foot of his bed he pulls out a folded piece of paper, flapping it open with a flourish. 

Jaemin winces at the harsh  _ thwap _ ! That comes from the paper, piercing through his peaceful atmosphere. Of course- that atmosphere was ruined the moment Doyoung came in. 

“We have twenty minutes,” He clicks his tongue, looking down at his wrist to check the time. “-twenty two maximum minutes before your royal fitting!” 

Stretching amicably, Jaemin kicks off his covers, ready to get ready whenever Doyoung finishes his daily summons. 

“And then its _ Move, Move, Move _ !” He rambles on, stressing the words as if they’d personally offended him, getting worked up as he recites their schedule. “To your speech at the newest elementary school grand opening, and then we have to rush,” He pauses, taking a breath. “And I mean  _ rush _ to your-”

Doyoung’s recital of their schedule has no meaning to Jaemin, as he knows the older will simply tell him what to do as the day goes on. At least, that’s what he says to himself, to justify himself as Doyoung’s words turn into white noise, similar to when the adults in those Charlie Brown cartoons start talking. 

Instead, he studies the familiar shape of his room, admiring the familiar sight of extravagant walls, all gilded in an expensive-looking wallpaper. One the walls are countless paintings, all of himself or his father. Just perks of living in a castle, he supposes. Despite having lived there for so long, Jaemin can’t help but appreciate the grandiose factors that make up his room.

Jaemin watches as a castle staff member, he thinks her name is Susan, comes in, holding a box that seems to dwarf her own body weight. She struggles with it for a bit, teetering towards the corner of Jaemin’s room, the one he’s recently started to ignore, and gently places it down, letting out an exhale of relief as she’s released from it’s burdensome weight. 

The mere sight of another gift brings a wave of dread into Jaemin, a feeling that’s been constant in him recently. 

It’s quiet, and that’s when Jaemin notices that Doyoung has also taken an interest in this new arrival, smiling in unrestrained delight as he claps his hands together. “Oh,” he gasps, “Another gift!” He sends a beaming smile to Jaemin, who tries to send one back, failing to match his enthusiasm. Doyoung doesn’t notice. 

“I’m  _ so _ excited for the wedding,” the royal advisor continues, either ignoring or not noticing Jaemin’s shift in demeanor. “I’ve heard that the king wants to-”

The wedding, Right.

**_one week prior_ **

_ Jaemin is seated in the castle library, giggling over some nonsensical story Mark is telling him, something about another failed chem lab at his university. He pushes down the feeling of jealousy as Mark fondly talks of his university friends, wishing he could experience the same thing as him. _

_ Jaemin,” Doyoung's head pops in, interrupting Mark. He raises a brow at their faces, but graciously ignores it, addressing Jaemin. “King Taeyong would like to speak with you.” _

_ He sits up, frown growing on his face. “Now?” He inquires, “Is something wrong?” _

_ “He didn’t say,” Doyoung replies, lips thinning into a line. “-He’s waiting for you in his chambers.” And with that, Doyoung disappears. _

_ “Chambers,” Jaemin scoffs, getting up. “Why does Doyoung insist on speaking like a victorian housemaid.” _

_ Mark lets out a quiet snort. “You better get going, you wouldn’t want to keep ‘his highness’ waiting. ” _

_ Bending over in an exaggerated bow, Jaemin exits his room, making his way over to his fathers’. He pushes down the bubbling feeling of anxiety.  _

_ “It’s just dad,” he mutters to himself, faux confidence flooding him as he flings open the door to his father’s room. Though he’s been in there countless times, Jaemin can’t help but bask in the sheer incredibility of the King’s quarters.  _

_ Taeyong stands at the window, the one that makes up almost an entirety of the wall. It overlooks the entire kingdom, the clear glass planes making it seem as if the kingdom was a part of the bedroom. It takes him a while to notice the opening of the door, lost in thought. _

_ Jaemin’s heart pangs, watching the lines on his forehead disappear as he notices his son, putting on a carefree facade.  _

_ Taeyong looks back from where he stands at his window. He pulls the corners of his lips up in a brief smile before dropping it. “Jaemin.” He welcomes him warmly, motioning for him to stand next to him. _

_ Jaemin straightens his back, gently closing the door behind him. “Is everything alright?” Cautiously, he places himself next to his father, mirroring his stance so that they face the view of the window. Taeyong’s eyes stay trained on the kingdom beneath them.  _

_ He looks over at the king, seeing the deep lines of stress that marr his face. He feels a pang of sympathy for his father, taking in the eye bags that seem to have worsened recently. He knows that he kingdom is taking an economic hit, but he’d never known the extent due to his dad’s incessant shielding. Something tells him that this is the reason why he’d been summoned.  _

_ Taeyong hesitates, refusing to meet Jaemin’s curious gaze. His eyes stay carefully trained on the kingdom’s skyline, stretching across the city and into the vast expanse of land beyond it. He opens his mouth, and then closes it- considering his words.  _

_ Jaemin watches patiently, anxiety building up as each second of silence passes.  _

_ Finally, he decides to speak. “I love you,” he starts. Colorful warning signs go off in Jaemin’s head. “You know that, right?” Taeyong asks, desperately, as if he needs Jaemin’s confirmation before proceeding.  _

_ “Of course,” he says without hesitation, “I’ve never doubted it in my life.” Taeyong smiles at this, but it’s one that doesn’t reach his eyes.  _

_ “Then you’ll know what I’m about to proposition isn’t something that I’ve done on impulse.” Another red warning sign goes up. “Are you aware about our recent economic problems?” _

_ He nods. “Yeah, but I thought that Johnny was handling it-” He starts, watching Taeyong stiffen at the mention of their other advisor.  _

_ “Johnny has been on leave for over three weeks now, and our economy is showing no signs of recovery.” Taeyong cuts in, running a hand through his hair. “I’ve decided to take matters into my own hands.” Jaemin is taken aback at the harsh tone, no doubt brought on by mentioning Johnny. He brushes it off.  _

_ “What does this have to do with me?” Jaemin inquires, although he has a vague inkling exactly what it is. Another stroke is added to the painting in his mind, one that he’d rather not want to be completed.  _

_ Taeyong’s turns, his hand coming from where it rests on the rail to gingerly cup Jaemin’s cheek. He’s shorter, but the mere touch still makes Jaemin feel like a child. He smiles sadly at him, fondly looking at his son, undoubtedly wishing he could protect him from the world. Alas, as royalty, their duty to the kingdom comes first. “You know as the crown prince, you have a different duty compared to other boys, right?” _

_ “Yes,” Jaemin replies automatically, biting the inside of his cheek as Taeyong continues to stare at his son, eyes betraying his hesitance as he chooses his next words.  _

_ “Did you know,” he says, like he’s telling a story. “That a couple cities away, there’s another kingdom? It’s called Vision, ruled by a young, bachelor king. I hear his name is Yangyang.” _

_ Jaemin’s stomach drops, the implication of his father’s words clear. “Why are you telling me this?” He asks, praying that the dots he’d connected were wrong.  _

_ “They have money.” Taeyong explains, thumbing over Jaemin’s cheekbone. “Enough money to send aid to us. It’s the only way we can save the kingdom.” He takes in a deep breath, preparing to say the words that Jaemin has already figured out. “I’ve arranged a marriage between you and the king. It’s set to happen in two weeks.” _

_ The final brush stroke is laid, painting the picture that Jaemin had dreaded of. He freezes, not wanting his father to see his genuine reaction. Instead, he keeps the words of protest in his head, desperately searching for the right thing to say. _

_ Taeyong notes his silence, hand dropping from his face to clutch at his hands, warmth encapsulating his. “I'm sorry it has to be this way my darling,” he says, and truly he sounds regretful. Jaemin knows it’s genuine. “-but it’s vital that you marry King Yangyang and take care of our people.” _

_ Jaemin deflates, the weight of his father’s expectations and their kingdom crushing any protesting thought he may have had. “I know, it’s my duty.” _

_ ━━━━━━━━━ _

Back in the present, miles away from the castle, Lee Jeno sits in a dimly lit shop, hunched over a sewing machine. He leans back, suppressing a groan of frustration as he feels yet  _ another _ sharp pain shoot through his fingers, the continuous tailor work starting to settle in. 

Honestly, making suits is alright in itself, the process of creating a customized piece of clothing intended to make someone feel more confident is something that Jeno appreciates, but  _ Good god, this is tortuous. _

“Amen to that, brother. I might just run my fingers over with a sewing machine,” The boy next to him chimes in, looking equally as slumped. _ Oh, did he say that last part aloud?  _ Either way, Donghyuck doesn’t question Jeno’s sudden outburst, continuing on. “Isn’t mass production a thing? Why does Yuta insist on having these suits handmade-”

“Because, it's part of this emporium’s code of conduct,” Cuts in a snide voice, and Jeno already feels the incoming headache. Nakamoto Yuta strides in, head held up high as if it were on a string. Yuta, as in the owner and manager of  _ Yuta’s Suit Emporium! Directly commissioned by the Royal Family. _ “Plus, mass production is not an ethical means of production.” He admonishes, ignoring the fact that his only source of labor is right in front of him. 

Donghyuck and Jeno share a look, one that goes unnoticed by Yuta, who is now inspecting their work. He picks up the salmon-colored blazer that Jeno was working on, searching for flaws. 

Rolling his eyes, Jeno continues on working on the matching pants, already knowing that Yuta won’t find any errors. 

As expected, Yuta puts the blazer down, sniffing at his failure in finding a flaw to scold Jeno on. “Back to work!” He says instead, strutting out of their workspace. Donghyuck snickers. 

“Yeah, and forcing two people to produce all of your clothing is an ethical means of labor,” Donghyuck mutters distastefully, returning back to his work. “I don’t know how this business is still thriving”

Jeno hums in agreement, thumbing at the fabric until it folds the way he wants to, pinning it in place. “Well, the royal family is the one whose lining the insides of his pockets, I don’t think he needs to widen his consumer population when he’s directly supplying the top 1% of the kingdom.”

“Don’t remind me,” the boy next to him whines, “it’s the only reason why I haven’t tried to fuck up any of these suits.” 

And with that, their conversation fizzles out, their task at hand being prioritized. Jeno runs a hair through the black strands of his hair, tongue peeking out as he focuses on sewing the seams of his pants. 

Despite having done this for so long, a part of him still bubbles in excitement at the thought of  _ the _ crown prince wearing something he’s made. He may complain about tailoring, but he can’t deny the pride that swells in him when he sees the royal family wearing his pieces. Distinctly, Jeno can hear the latest BLACKPINK song blaring through the radio in Yuta’s office. 

Jeno bobs his head along to the beat, unconsciously doing the choreo along with it. The beat is addicting, albeit a little unconventional. He moves along to the music, swaying along as he goes over the seams once more. 

What he doesn’t notice is how Donghyuck smiles at his antics, devilish smile growing on his face. “Bust out some moves,” he cheers, cupping his hands around his mouth. “Show me what you got!”

Jeno jumps, smiling sheepishly. “Now? But we’re at work….” He looks at Yuta’s closed office door, resolve crumbling as Donghyuck continues to hype him up. Swaying to the beat, he does an arm wave, wiggling around to get a laugh out of the boy in front of him. 

Fully into it, he gets up, trying to do the bits of choreo he’d seen from the small television in his bedroom. He feels light, the movement already erasing the stress of the day.

Watching as Donghyuck lights up at his moves, the addictive beat of the music controlling the body, and the lightness in his heart, Jeno indulges in one of the few passions he holds dear to him: dancing. 

Dance is something Jeno’s always held a passion for, and even as he stands in a dingy tailoring shop, surrounded by days worth of work, he still finds the thrill of performance just as enthralling as ever. 

When the song gets to the dance break, Jeno goes all out, basking in the encouragement Donghyuck is giving him. For a moment, they forget about their work, and it’s just Jeno and Donghyuck- two best friends who are enjoying their time. 

Jeno’s about to get to the killing part of the dance break, when the music abruptly shuts off. His head snaps towards where the music was playing, freezing with his hands mid-air as he stares into Yuta’s unamused face.

“What do you boys think I’m running? A dance club?” Their boss snarks, and Donghyuck bows his head, either to snicker or to avoid getting scolded. Jeno figures it’s both.

He sits back down at his table, ignoring the embarrassed flush that burns across his face. “I would’ve said a debtor’s prison...” Jeno mutters, once he thinks Yuta is out of earshot. Donghyuck snickers. 

Luck is not on Jeno’s side today, as Yuta is, in fact, not out of earshot.

Stalking up to Jeno’s workstation, Yuta leans over, until Jeno can count the hairs on his eyebrows. “Keep laughing, but you’ll be working for me for another 37 years!” He jeers, smirking when he sees Jeno’s face fall. 

“37 years?” Jeno protests, “But I’ve already paid off more than half!” 

“Ah yes,” Yuta says in fake contemplation, rubbing his hand against his irritatingly sharp chin. “But you see, there's an interest! Your parent’s should’ve thought of that before they loaned so much money from me.”

“They did it to feed me!” He defends, trying not to rise up with Yuta’s taunting, and failing.

“Their mistake.” Yuta says lightly, heading back to his office before Jeno can get another word in.

Jeno sighs, slumping over until his forehead hits the hard surface of his workstation with a  _ Thump! _ At this point, he might as well be dead.  _ I’m alive, but I’m dead _ , he thinks sadly. 

As a son of two relatively poor farmers, money had grown increasingly scarce as an onset of famines had hit before his birth. Coupled with a declining wheat economy, Jeno was born into a family that had to work tirelessly to make ends meet.

He’d never blamed his parents, he knew they loved him, enough to borrow money from a shrewd, shady Japanese businessman. Despite their financial issues, he was raised in a household full of love and happiness. It’s just his misfortune that he has to pay off their debt. 

Donghyuck pats his back in sympathy. He’s seen their tense exchanges countless times, but his heart still emphasizes for the other. “Don’t worry, I’ll be here with you until the rest of my siblings can hold steady jobs.” He pauses. “Which will only be around 16 years-” He ignores Jeno’s moan of frustration, amending quickly, “but that’s around  _ half _ of the time?”

“I hate it here.” Jeno complains, voice muffled. 

“Me too, but what can we do about it?” Donghyuck answers, attention back on his sewing machine as he frantically tries to get it to stop sewing in the wrong direction, 

_ 37 years _ , Jeno thinks, trying to imagine himself as a middle-aged man and tailoring suits for the grandchildren of the current King. He shudders, imagining an aging Yuta barking out orders to him. 

Shaking his head, he instead opens the door to his familiar dream; the one where the future works out for him, and he’s able to travel the world and dance. Muscle memory takes over as he finishes the final piece of his suit, and he allows himself to get lost in his dream.

_ ━━━━━━━━━ _

Jaemin walks over to the endless pile of gifts in the corner of his room, picking up a small white box embossed with gold accents. A tag attached reads:  _ To my future husband, Love, King Yangyang of Vision _ . He scrunches his nose in disgust at how the tag is addressed, haphazardly tossing it back onto the pile.

It’s as if today had dragged on for a while, the arrival of the gift in the morning making his impending marriage more evident. Thank god Doyoung hadn’t noticed if anything was off, too busy whisking Jaemin away to his royal duties. 

The only highlight of the day being his tutoring session with Mark. Mark, whose  _ official _ title was his castle tutor.  _ Unofficially _ , Mark was Jaemin’s best (and only) friend. And even then, their session was charged with an uncertain air. 

_ Mark watches as another castle staff walks in, dropping another gift onto the untouched corner of Jaemin’s room. “Are those-” _

_ “Engagement gifts?” Jaemin sighs, rubbing a hand against his eyes tiredly. “Yup, they’ve been coming in a nonstop stream for a week now. _

_ Mark’s face twists, and he masks it, tapping his pen against his lips. Jaemin tracks the movement. “Are you excited?” He tries, failing to sound enthusiastic. Jaemin appreciates the effort.  _

_ “Excited? Why would I be excited about marrying a total stranger?” Jaemin complains, flopping down on his calculus notes. He looks up at Mark, whose hair is messed up, his glasses adorning his face. Mark, who Jaemin thinks is the only person he trusts in this entire world alongside his father.  _

_ Jaemin’s head lands near Mark’s thigh, and he sighs in contentment as Mark raises a hesitant hand to card through his hair, the pink strands feeling coarse under his fingertips. He looks up at Mark, gazing up at him with admiration. Mark meets his gaze, unabashedly staring back at him, giving him that smile that only appears when he’s with Jaemin.  _

_ It would be so easy for Jaemin to give in to his selfish desires, and confess everything he’s kept unspoken to the older. With the way their relationship has been, Jaemin is sure he knows what the other’s response would be.  _

_ But, fate didn’t work out in their favor for this lifetime.  _

_ Jaemin breaks their eye contact first. “I wish I could marry whoever I wanted,” He settles on saying instead, keeping a sense of ambiguity. The hand stills in his hair for a second.  _

_ Jaemin waits with bated breath, foolishly hoping that Mark would catch the hint, and confess right then and there.  _

_ “Yeah, me too.” Mark says carefully, opting to keep his response equally as vague.  _

_ And like that, Jaemin knows his selfish desires won’t come true. Disheartened, he sits up, brushing Mark’s hand away. “But, it’s my duty. And duty means doing the things your heart might regret.” He amends, ignoring Mark’s concerned gaze. _

_ Mark frowns, about to interject, before he pauses to think. It seems like he comes to the same conclusion as Jaemin, as he slumps down, picking his pen back up. “Yeah.” _

Looking back at the memory, Jaemin laughs bitterly, as his naivete in thinking things would turn out different. 

He walks out to his balcony, the cool night air always something that brings him a sense of serenity. He looks out at the illuminated skyline of his kingdom, spanning out across the land. The moon seems extra bright tonight, and he basks in it’s peaceful glow. 

Somewhere else, another boy is doing the same, from where he looks out of a small window tucked in the corner. The moon casts a white glow in his room, and he gasps in awe as it shines brighter and brighter. 

  
Together, a similar thought is echoed between them: _ What would it be like to be free? _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey! thanks for clicking, if this looks familiar, it's because i'd originally written this in july, and i'm now rewriting it! i'll hopefully reupload the first chapters soon, please look forward to it!
> 
> i hope you enjoy this disney channel original movie-ish fic <3
> 
> [my twt](https://twitter.com/lumheis)


	2. i'm just like you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> johnny plots, yangyang pulls some subtle diplomatic deception, and jaemin goes out one last time, finding someone... that's just like him?

A black Toyota Camry speeds down the highway, narrowly avoiding other cars as it merges between the lanes. 

The driver grins maniacally as another car beeps at him, no doubt voicing their discontent at his unconventional driving. Good. He speeds by another particularly slow car, accepting the incoming bluetooth phone call.

“ _Johnny_ !” A deep yet juvenile voice filters through. “ _I got the last of the gold!_ ”

“Good, good,” he laughs, smirking at himself through his reflection in the rearview mirror. “You will not believe how easy it was to crash this kingdom’s godforsaken economy.”

The other caller hums disinterestedly. “ _So when are you paying me? The newest PS5 came out yesterday._ ”

“I will, I will,” He placates, gripping the steering wheel in annoyance. “A kingdom who only relies on one material to keep their economy afloat,” he scoffs, turning up the AC. “I think I’m doing them a favor.”

“ _By causing an economic recession and forcing the kingdom into near bankruptcy?_ ”

“No!” He cuts in, narrowly missing a semi-truck in his burst of rage. He takes a breath, explaining his plan the nth time to his lackey. “When I come back, I’ll tell the king I’ve discovered a huge fortune! Huge enough to fund projects, dig more mines, and save the economy.” He smirks, tightening his grip on the steering wheel. “I’ll come back a hero, and just in time, as the crown prince is of age!”

“ _Ew, isn’t he like, 20 years younger than you?_ ”

“Everyone knows the royal family doesn’t marry out of love, merely for political power.” Johnny speeds through a red light. “I’m the best candidate, I’ll help nurse the kingdom back to health, there’s no other competition.”

“ _Well you see_ -”

“Prince Jaemin may not like me, but as the sole person who will bring the kingdom back to prosperity, he can’t refuse!” Johnny cackles, thinking about finally getting his chance to live in the castle quarters, doted on by thousands of staff. 

“ _There’s a slight issue with that_ ,” The voice cuts in, urgently. “ _King Taeyong has arranged for Prince Jaemin to marry the King of Vision_.”

“What?!” Johnny demands, almost swerving into oncoming traffic. Annoyance bubbles inside of him, the idea of the king making decisions without him making him rage. “Without asking me for counsel? Who does he think he is?”

“ _Uh, the King_?” 

“You fool!”

“ _Hey man listen, I’m just the guy you hired to steal shit, don’t kill the messenger_.”

“Quiet, Jisung!” Johnny furrows his brow, thinking for a moment. “This is merely a… temporary setback.” He steps down harder on the gas pedal. “I can’t drop my plan because one of the royals is being married off! I just need some… time.”

“ _What are you planning?”_

“Suppose the prince goes missing,” Johnny starts, ignoring the answering groan. “And the wedding is cancelled.” He’s making this plan up on the fly, but it’s more plausible than he’d thought. 

“ _Okay_...”

“But then, I find the prince! And the ever so grateful King allows me his hand in marriage!” He cheers, “It’s perfect.” The castle is closer now, and Johnny can see the twinkling lights of the windows. Going 40 miles over the speed limit, he speeds towards the entrance. 

“ _How will you do that?_ ”

“I’ve got just the plan, and it involves you.” 

“ _You want me to commit treason? I better be getting paid triple for this_ ”

_━━━━━━━━━_

Jaemin sits at his desk, doing some physics problems. Pulling his head back he sneaks a peek at his kinematics equation-sheet, scanning it for the right formula.

As he’s plugging in the velocities and final position, a knock snaps him out of it. He sighs, gratefully taking the distraction, calling for the person on the other end of the door to come in.

Mark comes in, and Jaemin’s mood brightens even more. He misses the way Mark shuffles in awkwardly. “Hey!” he exclaims, flashing him a megawatt smile. “What brings you around?”

“Oh, I just” he flaps an arm around, “Have a message to deliver.”

“Okay, after that can you help me with these physics problems? I keep getting the formulas mixed up, and I’m trying not to look them up but they’re just so hard to memorize and use without a physical-” He’s rambling again, but Mark usually doesn’t mind.

He looks up expectantly, ready for a lighthearted jab or a chuckle from the other. Instead, he’s met with Mark’s worried eyes, darting around the room, looking anywhere except at Jaemin.

“Yeah, sure,” he says faintly, miles away. “-Your highness.” He tacks on, words tumbling out as if he’d never said them in his life.

Jaemin frowns. “Why the sudden formalities,” He gets up, and hurt flashes across his face when Mark doesn’t budge. “It’s just me.”

Mark slumps in defeat, eyes trained on the marbled tiles on the floor. “The king told me to tell you, the ambassador from Vision is here” He glances at the corner that houses the ever-growing pile of gifts. “-with another engagement gift.”

“He’s here already?”

Mark keeps his lips sealed, nodding sadly. Jerking his head in farewell he spins on his heel, leaving before Jaemin can start another conversation. 

Suddenly, that physics work doesn’t seem as pressing. Standing in shock for a second Jaemin sighs, flopping back down onto his bed, willing away the impending headache.

_━━━━━━━━━_

In another part of the castle, Renjun paces around the throne room. It’s rather grand, a large carpet gilded with gold and magenta runs in the middle of the room, directing a visitor’s eyes straight to a large throne, no doubt where the king sits. 

The white marble floors are spotless, and Renjun can’t help but admire the intricate paintings strewn along the walls, all going in age order of the royal family. Clicking his tongue, he stalks over to where his companion stands, entranced by a painting of the crown prince. 

“Is this why you wanted to come?” Renjun snarks, breaking Yangyang out of his reverie. At least he has the gall to look embarrassed. 

“I was just curious.” Yangyang flashes his kingly smile, adjusting the large, pointed hat on his head. He steps away from the painting, pandering over to where the throne sits. Renjun follows. “Can’t I just want to meet my in-laws?”

“Did you have to wear the disguise, though?” Renjun barrels on, eyeing the tan-colored suit that he’s wearing, one that matches his. “What’s going to happen when they recognize you as the king?”

Yangyang smiles. “It’ll be a pleasant surprise!” Renjun shoots him an unimpressed glare, and he shrinks in on himself. Picking at his silver-cufflinks, he adds on a sheepish, “ _Maybe they’ll find it funny_?”

“Funny? Oh yes a potential political scandal is _hilarious_ .” Renjun ignores Yangyang’s wince, voice betraying his doubts as he thinks about everything that could go _wrong_. “Why are you even doing this? Can’t you just straight out introduce yourself as the king?”

Yangyang falls into a contemplative silence. He turns, once again, to the painting of Prince Jaemin, where he stands regal, pink hair contrasted by his black suit, beautifully crafted, details captured even in the strokes of his painting. Renjun takes note of the interested glint in his eye as he appraises the painting.

“I just want to see what he’s like before we get married. No formalities, or added pressure because of my title.” He says, in a small voice. “He’s not the only one marrying a complete stranger.”

Renjun deflates, eyes turning sympathetic. He knew that Yangyang didn’t want to get married so soon, but the Neo Kingdom’s financial distress was something they couldn’t ignore. “I know, but their people need help-”

“And it’s my duty.” Yangyang finishes, turning away from the painting. He pulls off his hat, chewing on his lip. “You’re right, I’ll just wait in the car.”

A hand grabs his, pulling the hat back towards his head. “Hey,” Renjun smiles, “If it’ll make you happy….” He trails off, securing the hat onto Yangyang’s head. “I suppose we could just play it off as one of your ‘practical’ jokes.”

A smile blooms on Yangyangs face, one that's all teeth and gums. Renjun has to look away at the sheer brightness of it. He jumps up and down excitedly. “Yes!” he cheers, pumping a fist into the air.

“But don’t. say. a. _Word._ ” Renjun adds, menacingly.

“Aye aye, captain!” Yangyang chirps back, adding in a little salute. “Today I am Ramram, ambassador from Vis-”

The door to the throne room opens, and Yangyang scrambles to stand next to Rejun, spine straight. A man walks in, wearing a navy blue suit, impeccably pressed. Renjun can recognize him from the painting on the wall, and it doesn’t take a fool to recognize him as the king.

His black hair is slicked back, and he walks towards the men, confidently strutting down the carpet that splits the room. The suit that adorns his body is a navy blue, embroidered with golden accents. He holds his head up, smiling warmly when he catches sight of the two men waiting for him.

And as he walks past Renjun gets a whiff of makeup, probably used to hide the dark eye bags that lie under his eyes. He returns the smile offered at him, but he can tell the king is exhausted. With the way Yangyang stiffens next to him, Renjun knows he isn’t the only one who came to this conclusion. 

He’s followed by another, slightly taller man, burgundy hair parted down the middle, round glasses perched on his nose. He wears a suit as well, albeit less elaborate than the king’s. The smile he wears is genuine- albeit a little forced.

“You must be the ambassadors from Vision,” the king greets, shaking both of their hands. “This is my royal advisor, Doyoung,” he gestures at the taller man, who nods in lieu of a greeting. 

Renjun bows, elbowing Yangyang to follow suit. Yangyang stumbles, clumsily mirroring Renjun. “Your highness,” Renjun declares. “Thank you for taking the time to meet us.” He continues as the king nods. “My colleague here would like to present you an engagement gift.”

A beat of silence. Renjun clears his throat at Yangyang, who is still staring at the painting of Jaemin on the wall. He snaps to attention, patting his pockets to find said gift. 

The door to the room opens again, and Renjun snaps his attention there, thankful for a distraction from Yangyang’s embarrassing plight. He raises a brow as a man, even taller than the other room marches in, brushing past the two ambassadors to stand next to the king. He doesn’t miss the glare Doyoung aims at the newest incomer. 

The king purses his lips at the interruption, but says nothing when Yangyang pulls the box out of his pocket with a celebratory, “ _Aha!_ ”

Walking forward, Yangyang holds the box out, bowing deeply in front of Taeyong. “A gift! From - uhm King Yangyang!” It takes every bone in his body for Renjun not to facepalm. 

Gingerly, Taeyong accepts the box, opening it to see a Cartier love bracelet, price tag still attached. He feels slightly faint as he reads the tag, that reads: $10,500. _How is it $10,000?_ “It’s-” Taeyong trails off, not knowing how to respond. “Lovely! I’m sure Jaemin will love it. Thank you, ambassador, please pass my thanks to King Yangyang!”

Yangyang nods, stepping back. He says nothing during their exchange, looking towards Renjun to do all of the talking. 

_I think he’s taking my threat too seriously._ Renjun shifts uncomfortably, as another beat of silence passes. The taller man stifles a yawn, smirking when Doyoung shoots him yet another impassive glare.

“So, King Taeyong, do you have a date set for the wedding?”

The king perks up, a natural smile falling upon his face. Renjun high-fives himself for saying the right thing. “Oh, I was thinking, maybe a week from today?”

A week? That’s awfully close. Yangyang frowns, opening his mouth to negotiate something different- 

A shriek pierces through the air, grabbing the attention of the men in the room. “ _Ah!_ Next week?” It comes from the tallest man once again, and Renjun raises a brow. “I meant, oh a week,” he backtracks, clapping his hands together. “A most wise and thoughtful date, I do very much approve of this.” He finishes, tacking on a smile that screams every word of ingenuity. 

Taeyong raises both brows, shocked at his advisor’s sudden outburst. “Thank you, Johnny, for your input.” Johnny is still smiling, and Renjun wonders how the king doesn’t notice how _fake_ it seems.

Doyoung adopts a strained smile. “A week from today it is!” 

“Excellent! I will” Yangyang coughs. “Uhm,” Yangyang coughs again, widening his eyes at Renjun in an urgent look. Renjun ignores it. “Tell King Yangyang at once, so he may meet his future spouse!”

And with that, Taeyong nods. Renjun takes that as a dismissal, and he turns around, grabbing Yangyang by the arm to follow him out. 

Disgruntled at the sudden date of his wedding, Yangyang allows himself to be pulled out. He casts one last glance at the painting of the crown prince hung on the wall, curiosity piqued.

_━━━━━━━━━_

Once more, Jaemin finds himself standing on his balcony, the view of his kingdom a comforting presence to the battleground of feelings in his mind. 

He can make out the newest elementary school, his room perfectly in line with the courtyard. He watches as a little girl falls over in her excitement to play tag, and smiles fondly as her friend comes over, helping her up. 

It’s an innocent picture, one that Jaemin wishes he could experience himself. _I wish that were me_ , he thinks wistfully.

The sunlight catches on his wrist, reflecting off of the bracelet on his wrist. After Taeyong’s insistence, Jaemin caved, begrudgingly putting on his most recent gift from his “fiance.” It’s not as extravagant as the others, a simple golden band studded with rounded diamonds. 

It’s cute, but he’d rather not think about it. The cool metal is unfamiliar on his skin, and he shudders, thinking about a similar one on his finger. 

“King Yangyang,” he mutters, reading the small engraving on the inside of the bracelet. The words feel foreign on his tongue, and he doesn’t know if he’ll ever get used to it- or if he wants to. “What are you like?” He mutters.

He leans against the railing, watching the schoolchildren play a little longer.

The glass door to his balcony slides open with a soft, whirrr, and he recognizes Mark's soft footsteps. The corners of his mouth tug upwards before he can stop himself. Facing Mark, he offers him a tentative smile, turning genuine when he returns the gesture. “What do you think Yangyang will be like?”

Mark stops at an arm's-length away from him. He raises a hand to his chin in faux thought. “I’m sure he’ll be-” He trails off, trying to find a proper word. “Suitable.”

“Is that it?” He crinkles his nose. “Suitable?”

“You don’t sound very excited,” Mark observes, treading dangerous water.

Jaemin bites, taking Mark’s silent offer to listen to his rant. “How can I be?” he says, resigned. “The fate of our kingdom rests on my marriage to a complete stranger, who feels more like a sugar daddy than an actual suitor.”

Mark snorts in amusement. “I’m not sure sugar daddy is the right word.”

“Maybe it isn’t.” He hums, “But, it’s my duty.” He speaks that last phrase so resigned, so devoid of emotion that Mark’s eyes widen in alarm. 

“I hear he can speak like 4 different languages, English, Korean, Mandarin, and German!” Mark tries, hoping to instill a sense of enthusiasm. The effort is there, but Jaemin is sure that it won’t change his dampening mood. “He probably talks a lot.”

Jaemin raises a brow. “Is that a good thing?” 

“Not really,” Mark concedes, falling silent. He stands next to Jaemin on the balcony, following his gaze.

An idea hits him.

A gentle hand shakes his shoulder. “Go grab a coat, preferably one with a large hood,” Mark says, ignoring Jaemin’s noise of confusion. “We’re going out.”

_━━━━━━━━━_

Mark gets out of the car, holding the passenger door open for Jaemin before waving their driver away with a hushed, “Pick us up in an hour or so!”

“Woah,” Jaemin breathes out, taking in the sight of the city. Mark watches fondly.

The city is bustling with people, all engrossed in their own personal lives. Walking through the market, Jaemin gasps at the assortment of goods spread throughout the stalls. It’s astonishing how so many of his citizens have created their own little businesses, all specializing in different things.

He stops at a pastry shop, taking in the sweet smell of chocolate and baked goods. His stomach grumbles, and he turns towards Mark with his best puppy eyes. “Can you get me a chocolate croissant?” He asks, rolling his r’s.

“Say less,” Mark laughs, “You highness,” and with an exaggerated bow he takes off. 

Waiting for Mark, Jaemin takes a better look around. A series of thudding catches his attention, and he looks towards the source. The thudding is coming from a hammer, nailing a storefront closed. The store is empty, and Jaemin watches sadly as he catches sight of the “Permanently Closed” sign.

He averts his eyes, knowing the exact reason why. 

Shaking his head he moves on. The faint thrum of a beat flows through the air, followed by a chorus of cheers. Jaemin follows the source, until the gentle thrum of a beat becomes the archaic melody of Neo pop songs. 

Peeking around a corner, he watches another boy, hood drawn up, dancing along to the music surrounded by a small crowd. Enraptured, he ventures closer, fully captivated by the boy’s movements.

The movements are so fluid, it’s like watching water in human form. The boy moves effortlessly to the beat, as if the music is ingrained in him. It’s fascinating, and Jaemin doesn’t have the heart to look away.

Jaemin takes notice of a snapback placed a couple feet in front of where he performs, and he watches passersby drop crumpled bills in it. Fumbling around in his pockets, Jaemin pulls out a couple of stray bills. 

Before he can drop the bills, the music cuts get off, the dissonant chord ringing through sudden silence. Backing up, he observes a man, dressed in a flamboyant suit straight out of the steampunk era, stalk up to the dancer, waving his arms around.

“Jeno!” He scolds, like one would scold a child. “This again?”

Startled, Jeno sheepishly smiles. “Yuta!” He folds his hands behind his back, subtly nudging the hat full of bills behind himself. Of course, this movement only draws Yuta’s attention, and he smirks victoriously at the hat full of bills.

“”What’s this?” He says slyly, picking up the hat. He flicks Jeno’s protesting hand away. “You raised this all for me?”

Yuta empties the snapback, dropping it once it’s cleared of currency. Jaemin barely restrains his anger at the appalling sight. 

“That money is mine!” Jeno protests, futilely attempting to wrestle the bills out of Yuta’s iron grip. 

“And _what_ do _you_ owe me?” Yuta snorts. “Do you think you can make a living dancing to K-Pop songs on the streets?” 

Jaemin is confused by the nature of this relationship, especially when Yuta’s words immediately make Jeno back down, his back slumping down into a sad arch. He cautiously watches Yuta walk away, Jeno still mourning the loss of his money.

He approaches the other, bills still in hand. “Hey,” Crouching down to where the other is picking up the discarded hat, he shoves the bills at him. ”You’ve got some amazing dance moves,” he adds on with a smile.

He still has no clue what the other looks like, other than the fact that his hair is black and he can dance.

“Thanks,” Jeno says, standing up to get a clear look at the boy who’d donated. Jaemin nods, facing Jeno once he stands back up. “I learned them all by myself-”

Jeno trails off, eyes widening in shock. _Is there something on my face_? Jaemin worries, breath catching when he focuses on the person in front of him

_It’s- My face?_

It’s like he’s looking at a mirror image of himself, albeit with black hair. 

Tilting his head, Jeno pulls his hood off, watching as the boy in front does the same. The boy has pink hair, but besides that, Jeno feels as if he’s looking at a mirrored image. “Woah,” He breathes out. 

Jaemin lets out a laugh, “Woah, indeed. We could be twins.”

“What's your name?” They blurt out, at the same time. 

Jaemin answers first. “Jaemin.”

“Jaemin,” Jeno tilts his head, before lighting up in recognition. “Like the prince?”

“Well...” Jaemin trails off, “Yeah.” 

Jeno’s lips form a small o as he makes the connection. Immediately, he drops into a bow. “I’m Jeno, your highness.”

Jaemin flushes, waving his arms around. “Don’t do that!” He hisses. “We’re in public!”

“Oh yeah.” Straightening up, Jeno stares at him intently, probably still reeling at their uncanny resemblance. “You look like me.”

“And you look like me,” Jaemin parrots back. “Although, I can’t dance merely as well as you can.”

“Oh,” Jeno rubs a hand against the back of his neck. “How much of that did you see?”

“Up until the point where that strange man stormed up to you and took all of your money,” The familiar bubble of annoyance bursts up again when Jaemin recalls the memory. “Who does he think he is?”

“Well,” Jeno says sheepishly. “He’s my boss.”

“Your boss? Shouldn’t _he_ be paying _you_?”

“That’s how it should be.” Jeno sighs. “But I kind of owe him lots of money, so I guess I'm sort of like… an indentured servant?” 

“Isn’t that illegal?”

“Technically yes, but honestly I feel like that’s my situation.” Jeno explains. “I work for him, and in return I get a place to stay. If I even want a hot meal, Yuta makes me pay. And then I have to make it myself.”

“Really?”

“Really. But that’s enough about me,” Jeno says, waving a hand. “Tell me, why the crown prince of Neo is standing right in front of my busking area. Nonetheless out in public like this.” 

Jaemin fiddles with his hands. “Well, I’m savouring my first and last taste of freedom before getting married next week.”

“I heard about that,” Jeno says idly. “I can’t imagine that it’s easy,” he adds on sympathetically. 

“It’s not, but certainly not as hard as your life.” He can’t believe he’s airing out his silly royal problems like this while the boy standing in front of him has it way harder.

“That doesn’t mean you can’t be upset over it.” Jeno says, and Jaemin finds himself at a loss for words. Continuing on, Jeno perks up. “Ooh, tell me, how is life in the castle?”

“Well...” Jaemin says uncertainly, not wanting to talk about how different their lives are. But, Jeno’s enthusiasm convinces him to keep talking. “If I want a hot meal, I just ring a bell and someone from the castle staff brings it to me, and while I eat, they tell me my agenda.”

“Wow,” Jeno sounds enthralled. “That sounds amazing.”

“But personally, I’d rather be in the library reading science books all day.”

Jeno looks at Jaemin, contemplative, before he lights up with an idea. “I’m just like you!”

“You are?” Jaemin replies, thinking about how they led totally different lives. 

“You’re just like me,” he continues, “There’s somewhere else we’d rather be.” Jeno bounces. “Don’t you see it? We both dream of larger things than what goes on in our lives!”

“I see, so are you a dancer?”

“Nope. I work at Yuta’s penitentiary- oops, I mean. Suit Emporium.” Jeno tacks on smugly, “I made the one you’re wearing!”

Gesturing towards his own suit, Jaemin gasps in awe. “Really? But the design is so… complicated!’ 

“It isn’t really, years of doing the exact same thing has just made me an expert!” Jeno slouches. “And I’ll be doing the exact same thing for another 37 years, until I pay off my parents debt.”

Jaemin nods in understanding. “I get it, duty calls. To be honest, I don’t want to get married next week.” He shakes his head. “But I’d never tell my dad, I wouldn’t want to disappoint him.”

“I completely understand. Everything I do is because I know my parents did nothing but love me. It’s just unfortunate that I have to work off the price it took for them to.” Placing a hand on his shoulder, he offers Jaemin a comforting smile.

“Maybe we really are alike. In both personality and face!” Jaemin says, taking a better look at Jeno.

“Honestly it kind of freaks me out, our resemblance.”

“Me too.” Furrowing his brow, Jaemin reaches out to Jeno’s face, placing a hand on the mole beneath his eye. “But, I don’t have this.”

“Yeah, and I don’t have pink hair.” Jeno laughs, reaching out to feel his hair. “It’s so dry!”

“It’s the closest form of expression I can get as a prince. Do you-”

“Your food, your highness,” a voice cuts in. Both boys turn to look at Mark, who drops said food in shock as he gets a good look at them. Eyes wide, he breathes, “You guys look identical!”

They look at each other, holding eye contact, before bursting out into giggles. “We do, don’t we.”

Allowing them to chatter for a while, Mark checks his watch. “I’m afraid it’s time for us to head back to the castle now.” He says apologetically. 

Jaemin casts an apologetic glance at Jeno, “It was nice meeting you, someday we should have you come up to the castle and dance at a ball or something!”

“Really?!” Jeno asks, perking up.

“I’ll send someone for you!”

“Well, I’ll be at Yuta’s Suit Emporium.” He replies, “For at least 37 years!”

Jaemin smiles to himself in the car, proud of himself for meeting a new friend. Jeno was nice, and their resemblance in both physical appearance and personality shocked him. If he could get Jeno to visit the castle, maybe his life in an arranged marriage wouldn;t be so bad after all.

_━━━━━━━━━_

Johnny paces around his room, on the phone. “You have to do it tonight. I’ve sent you the address where I want him taken, but you better not harm the Prince at all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> johnny a little suspicious isnt he ..  
>  [my twt](https://twitter.com/lumheis)


	3. to be a prince

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> jaemin gets kidnapped, jeno and mark pull off a high-profile identity theft, and johnny is- well he's johnny.

Chenle grips onto the seat of the car, holding on for dear life as Jisung swerves around the castle. “Are you  _ sure _ you know how to drive?” He asks, looking out of the window to see the car brush against a well.

“Yeah,” He runs over a branch. “Got my license three days ago.” Leaning forward, Jisung reaches one hand out to shuffle the radio, while the other loosely grips the wheel. He ignores Chenle, who tells him to  _ keep both hands on the wheel _ . “Besides, this is Johnny’s car. If something happens to it I won’t have to pay for it.”

Chenle fastens his seatbelt, face pale. “That’s comforting. Why is the royal advisor paying us to kidnap the crown prince anyways?”

“The fuck if I know, but at least he’s paying for my PS5  _ and _ Playstation!”

“Aw, hell yeah! PUBG for days after this is over!” Chenle cheers, “Wait…. what is our game plan?”

“Well,” Jisung furrows a brow. “I was thinking we could just text him to come out to the front.”

Silence. “Are you serious?” Chenle deadpans. “You want us to kidnap the most important person in the kingdom by _ sliding into his DMs _ ? Do you even have his number?”

“I  _ do _ have his number! Johnny gave it to me. At least my plan is better than asking him to come out and check if our rag smells like chloroform!”

“That was an ingenious idea!” Chenle defends, “He’d be out in 30 seconds flat.”

“We can just figure it out when we get there-  _ Shit! _ ” Jisung slams his foot on the brake, barely running into the side of the castle. “I think this is the Prince’s room.” He says, tilting his head in the general direction.

“This is insane,” Chenle breathes out, trailing his eyes up the expanse of the castle walls. “couldn’t we go to jail for this?”

“Not if we name-drop Johnny.”

Chenle nods. “That’s fair, especially since he holds such an important position of power. It wouldn’t be good for someone like him to be affiliated with the monarchy.”

At that, the boys fall into a contemplative silence. No doubt, wondering whether or not they should go through with Johnny’s plan. “But, I still want my Xbox” Jisung mutters, ethics overlooked. Chenle hums in agreement. Politics are dumb anyways

“How about you just lure him out?” Chenle says, “And then I’ll just push him into the back.”

“What should I do?”

“I don't know, just improvise.” Hopping out of the passenger seat, he looks around. “Doesn’t the lack of security around here seem a little sketchy?”

“Nah, once you get past the castle gates the security is literally 0. Plus, we’re driving Johnny’s car, so the guards shouldn’t even spare a glance at us.” Jisung replies, pulling out a face mask. “Come on, we don’t want to risk him seeing our faces. And, if all goes wrong? 

“--We blame Johnny,” they say in sync. 

Approaching the wall adjacent to the Prince’s room, Jisung sighs a breath of relief when he sees the window is slightly propped open. Although the room is 2 stories up from where he stands, Jisung hopes that he can rouse the Prince out. 

Cupping his hands around his mouth, Jisung yells, “ _ Help me! _ ” Chenle shoots him a bewildered look.

“What are you doing!” He hisses, “Do you honestly think he’ll fall for that.”

Jisung opens his mouth, prepared with a clapback, before he sees light flood through the prince’s window. A beat later, the window cracks open even more.

“Hello?” a groggy voice calls, belonging to the Prince.

_ Holy shit, it worked! _ Tilting his head up, Jisung yells, in his best frightened voice, “Please help me, I think I fell over some uh… rose bushes! And I need medical attention!”

“Oh that doesn’t sound good, I’ll call someone to come get you-”

“No!” Jisung cuts in, backtracking to sound less urgent. “I mean uh-, I look really stupid and I don't want anyone to see me like this, can’t you just come down and help me?”

“Aw, aren’t you just adorable!” Jaemin coos. “I’ll be down in a second!”

Chenle scrunches his nose in disgust, “ _ adorable _ ?” He mouths at Jisung.

“Well, it worked.” Jisung shrugs back, pulling his mask on. “Go hide in the bush so you can catch him off guard.”

“But there’s thorns!”

“Not my problem, leave the car door open too so we can just,” He gestures vaguely to the car, “push him in there.” Hearing footsteps approaching, Jisung nudges Chenle in the direction of the rosebush, trying to look inconspicuous. Well- as inconspicuous one can look besides an idling car with it’s doors open. 

“Hello, are you there?” Jaemin calls out, rounding the corner, “Oh there you are, where did you hurt yourself-” He cuts himself off, looking at Jisung’s hooded figure standing next to a car that looks oddly like Johnny’s. “What is going on-”

“ _ This is a kidnapping _ !” Chenle yells, barreling out of the rosebush, shoving Jaemin into the open car door. Slamming it shut, Chenle hops over the roof of the car. “Go, go go!”

Jisung scrambles from where he stands, hopping into the driver's seat. Changing the gear, he presses down on the accelerator, zooming out of the castle grounds. “Hey can you put the address Johnny texted me up on Google Maps? I have no clue where it is.”

“Yeah, sure.” Chenle says, as if he didn’t just kidnap the sole heir of the kingdom. “That was easy.”

“What the HELL are you two doing?” Jaemin screeches from the back seat. “Is this actually a kidnapping? Oh my god, I can’t believe I fell for that. And did you say Johnny?-”

Groaning, Chenle leans over, squinting at a button that says  _ PARTITION ENGAGE. _ Pressing it, a glass wall slides up between them and the backseat. “ _ Hey _ , I’m talking to you here-” Is the last of Jaemin that Chenle and Jisung hear, barrier effectively cutting off any sound.

“Ok Google,” Jisung says, “Text Johnny, ‘ _ We did it, on our way to the location now _ .’”

_ ━━━━━━━━━ _

“Jaemin?” Taeyong calls, popping his head into his empty bedroom. Today was supposed to be the day Yangyang and Jaemin would officially meet, so he’d hoped to give him a small heart-to-heart beforehand.

The sheets of the bed are unmade, and there’s no sign of the prince anywhere. Frowning, Taeyong ventures into the room, closely followed by a very energetic Johnny and an equally as concerned Doyoung. 

“Where is he?” Taeyong asks aloud, taking note of the cracked open window. 

“I don’t know,” Doyoung answers, “I remember seeing him in here last night.”

Inconspicuously, Johnny walks over to Jaemin’s desk. Plucking a note out from his pocket, he places it on the stack of notes that litter the desk. Glancing back up to make sure Taeyong didn’t see, he clears his throat. 

“Ahem,” he coughs, holding up the paper he’d just planted, “I’ve found a note.”

“A note? What does it say,” the King asks, rushing over to stand next to Johnny. 

“Dear dad, I’m sorry, but I’ve run away. I don’t want to get married. XOXO, Prince Jaemin.” Johnny finishes reading the note quickly, almost as if he’d known exactly what it had said. Which of course, he does. 

Luckily, Taeyong doesn’t pick up on this, overcome with worry. “Run away?” He gasps, “Why would he do this? What should we do?”

Doyoung purses his lips, offering the king a comforting pat on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, we could probably-”

“Cancel the wedding?” Johnny cuts in, waving the note around. “It’s a shame, but without a prince, there’s no wedding.”

“We can’t just do that, do you even  _ know _ why we’re holding the wedding?”

Johnny lets out a sound of protest, and him and Doyoung start bickering, all while King Taeyong tries to diffuse the dispute between his two advisors. 

“What happened?” Mark asks, waltzing into the bedroom, closely followed by Renjun and Yangyang. At the sight of the two advisors fighting, he backs up slightly, bumping into Yangyang. 

Yangyang and Renjun share a confused glance. “Um,” Renjun starts. “Does anyone want to explain what’s happening?”

The newest appearance of the ambassadors puts a pause to the advisor’s bickering, attention diverted. Doyoung opens his mouth, ready to explain-

“Jaemin ran away.” Johnny answers smugly, ignoring Doyoung’s icy glare.

Yangyang’s mouth opens in shock, while Renjun gasps.

Mark narrows his eyes, picking up the way Johnny smiles in satisfaction as Doyoung and  Taeyong  worry over what to do. “He did?” He says skeptically. “But that doesn’t make any sense--”

“Here’s the note!” Johnny interrupts, shoving the slip of paper in his face. Opening it up, Mark takes note of the almost illegible handwriting.  _ Jaemin’s handwriting doesn’t look like this….  _

“We should cancel the wedding,” Johnny insists, for the hundredth time.

“I don’t think that’s up to you,” Doyoung fires back, continuing their debate. 

Taeyong stands to the side, head whipping back and forth as he watches the advisors fight, not knowing which side to take. 

“How about this?” Renjun pipes in, arms raised like he’s warding off wild animals. “If he doesn’t return by sunset today, we cancel the wedding. We must give him time to think over his impulsive decisions.”

Johnny and Doyoung both open their mouths, ready to protest for opposite reasons. 

“Okay, I guess we can do that,” Taeyong says with finality, in the tone that makes it clear he won’t hear any arguments. “I’m so sorry about this, it’s terribly out of character for my son to do something like this.”

Renjun nods. “It’s not ideal, but I hope in the end he makes the right decision.”

_ This isn’t like Jaemin _ , Mark thinks, _ and I bet it has something to do with Johnny wanting to cancel the wedding. _ A plan formulates in his head, and wordlessly Mark slips out of the room, ready to execute it. 

_ ━━━━━━━━━ _

Yuta stands at the front of his shop, dusting off his newest styles. The sound of a car parking grabs his attention, turning around just in time to see a well dressed man come in. “Why hello there,” he purrs, “sir.”

Mark shifts uncomfortably. “Hello.”

Trailing a suggestive arm down his, Yuta continues, either unaware or not caring about Mark’s growing discomfort.“Are you looking for a new suit? I assure you that you’ll find only the finest ones here.” He continues, sizing him up. 

“Actually,” Mark steps backwards, shrugging Yuta’s hand off of his arm. “I was hoping I could talk to one of your tailors? His name is Jeno.”

Yuta’s smile drops immediately at the mention of his employee, and he scowls, turning towards the back of the shop. “ _ Jeno! Someone wants to talk to you! _ ”

Mark winces at the sudden change in tone. 

Getting up from where he was working, Jeno peeks through the open door, barely repressing an excited squeal when he sees Mark standing there. Turning around, he grips Donghyuck by the arms. “It’s the guy who was with Prince Jaemin when we met yesterday!” 

“Oh my god,” Donghyuckk replies, with equal enthusiasm. “What are you waiting for? Go get employed by the castle!” He makes a shooing motion with his hands, “I’ll cover your work for the day!”

“Thanks Donghyuck,” he says gratefully. “You’ll be the first one to get tickets to my concerts. Bye!” Speeding out of the room, he pushes past a silently seething Yuta, and skids to a stop right in front of Mark. 

Had he not been excited at the prospect of new opportunities, he would’ve noticed the worried lines around his eyes, or the way Mark unconsciously relaxes at the sight of his (Jaemin’s) face.

“Jeno, I--” Mark starts urgently.

“Oh my god!” Jeno cuts in, “I’m actually going to dance at the castle!”

“Well actually--”

“Oh dear I’m not even prepared, I don't even know what type of music is appropriate for things like these,” He’s rambling, still oblivious to Mark’s growing distress. 

“Uh, I came because--”

“Should I change? Well actually I can’t, because this is the only good outfit I own,” Jeno trails off, now noticing how Mark has gone silent. It’s then that he takes a moment to study the other, who looks uncharacteristically worried, eyes averted and hands fiddling with the cuffs of his sleeves. “That is why you’re here, right?”

“I’m sorry, but no.” Jeno deflates, and Mark sends him an apologetic glance. “I came here, because-- ” He looks around to make sure no one is listening before continuing in a hushed tone. “Prince Jaemin is missing, and I need you to help me find him.”

“Missing?” Jeno says loudly, shrinking in on himself when Mark shushes him. “What can I do about that?” He whispers, “Sew some suits and hope it attracts him?”

“No,” Mark shakes his head. “You have to pretend to be Prince Jaemin.”

Jeno looks at Mark like he’s grown two heads. “Is this a practical joke, or are you insane?” 

“Just listen,” Mark insists, “I think that Johnny, the King’s royal advisor, has taken Jaemin hostage, in an attempt to stop the royal wedding!”

“If that was true,” Jeno says slowly, “I still don’t know what that has to do with me.” 

“I’m getting there,” Mark rushes out, holding a finger up. “If you pretend to be the prince, just for a little-” He makes a small gesture with his thumb and pointer finger, a small distance between them to emphasize how short Jeno’s time as Jaemin would last. “I could trick Johnny into revealing where he’s taken Jaemin.”

“This seems a little outlandish,” Jeno says uncertainly. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” Mark affirms. “You should’ve seen him, he was  _ not _ acting normally.”

“Even if your hunch is right,” Jeno starts. “How could I  _ pretend _ to be royalty? Couldn’t I go to jail for that?

“So could I,” Mark assures, “We’re in the same boat, but if I’m right, we can get away with it freely.” Fiddling with his hands, he notes Jeno’s visible hesitation. “Please?”

That last  _ Please _ is spit out so desperately, that Jeno takes the time to really look at the other. There’s a sort of worry mixed into the desperation in Mark’s aura, and he guesses that the cause isn’t just because Jaemin is the prince. “He’s in trouble, isn’t he.” Jeno asks gently. 

Mark nods. 

He makes up his mind. “Count me in.”

_ ━━━━━━━━━ _

Jeno steps foot into Jaemin’s room, immediately awed by how expensive everything seems. The high ceilings cause his footsteps to echo, and the room is probably 10 times larger than his own dingy one, back in Yuta’s shop. 

He pauses at a large, golden mirror, that takes up half of an entire wall. He giggles at his own reflection, terribly out of place in this room, his simple outfit of jeans and a shirt not matching the wholesale royal aesthetic of the room.

“So this is what being in the top 1% is like,” He breathes out, still taking in the grand sight of the room. Mark taps his foot impatiently, but allows Jeno another moment to take it in.

“Yup,” Mark affirms. “This is where you’ll stay, at least for a couple days.”

“I still can’t believe this is happening,” Jeno says in disbelief. Pausing, he stops in front of a painting of Jaemin. “What about my hair?” He asks, pointing to his own jet black hair, and then back at the painting, where Jaemin has bright pink hair. 

“Ah,” Mark lights up. “I’ve thought of that!” Striding past Jeno, he stops at the foot of the bed, where he procures a small box. “I present, Pink in a Pinch!”

Ignoring that awful pun, Jeno takes the box, inside a pink wig. It’s high quality, of course-- it’s from the castle. He allows Mark to secure the wig on him, gasping at his own reflection in the mirror. 

If Jeno didn’t know himself, he would’ve believed that he was the prince as well; except for the part where he’s wearing commoner clothing. “Woah,” he says, feeling the oddly realistic strands of hair on the wig. “I look like Jaemin.”

“I thought the resemblance was freaky enough, but this-” Mark says, gesturing towards his reflection. “Is just uncanny.”

A beat of silence passes where Mark does nothing but intensely stare at Jeno, and he awkwardly shuffles under the weight of his gaze. “So,” he says, hoping to snap Mark out of this odd trance. “What now?”

“Right,” Mark says, snapping out of his trance. “Before we meet the King, you have to learn how to act…” He trails off, judging the slouch of Jeno’s back. “Somewhat royally.”

“I can do that.” Jeno smiles, raising his arm in a wave that seems like he’s screwing in a lightbulb. Mark winces at how unnatural it looks.

“Okay, first of all,” Mark says, “We have to work on your posture.” Walking towards the prince’s desk, he grabs a hefty textbook, perching it on top of Jeno’s head. “Try walking without having the textbook fall.” He coaches, stepping back to allow Jeno some room to move. 

Taking one step, the textbook immediately falls off of Jeno’s head, landing on the ground with a sad  _ thwap _ ! Groaning in frustration, he leans down, straightening up his back before placing the book back on his head, only for it to fall off again as he takes another step.

“Ok, this may take some time,” Mark admits, rubbing his chin. “We only have half an hour before sunset, so I’ll have to rush through this.” Circling around Jeno, he perks up. “Aha! Here's your problem,” With no warning, Mark jabs a finger between Jeno’s shoulder blades, effectively making his posture straighten up. 

“Ouch!” Jeno yelps, although his posture is already infinitely better. “I have to stand like this the entire time?”

“And walk” Mark adds on, pushing Jeno to walk around the room. 

“This is going to be hard,” Jeno whines, stumbling around, posture so straight it looks unnatural on him. “I can’t do this.”

“You’re doing great,” Mark assures, “Just remember- no nagging, bragging, sweating, fretting, slipping, tripping, slurping, burping, twittering, or frittering allowed.” Jeno narrows his eyes at him. Ignoring him, Mark continues his list. “Stay present, stay pleasant, and stay proud.”

“Okay.” Jeno says, concentrating on walking straight. “I’ve got this.”  
“See? You just have to think about it,” Mark praises. He places a hand on Jeno’s downturned chin, pushing it up, “But, remember to keep your head up.”

“Head up,” he nods. “Got it.”

Twenty minutes later, Jeno has mastered some of the basics when it comes to acting like royalty. Mark watches him in approval as he walks a lap around the room, posture perfect, and mannerisms somewhat royalty-like.

“Good,” He praises. “And finally, remember that one of the main parts of being a prince is to never show any signs of weakness.”

Jeno frowns at the sudden harsh expectation. “Why?”

“It wouldn’t do any good to your people if you seem unsure about what you’re doing.” Mark shakes his head. “You need to act as a symbol of confidence, someone for all of your citizens to look towards for reassurance.”

“I’d never thought of it like that.” Jeno admits, suddenly understanding the weight of Jaemin’s position. 

“Most people never do,” Mark agrees, turning to gaze at the portrait of Jaemin hanging on the wall, “That’s why it’s so hard for him.” He says wistfully.

“It must be,” Jeno agrees, following Mark’s gaze towards the painting. Jaemin’s pose screams confidence, the epitome of royalty. Jeno hopes he exudes at least a fraction of the same aura Jaemin does. 

Mark bites his lip, contemplative. “I hope he’s okay.”

“You two,” Jeno starts tentatively, “Must be very close. ”

“I hope so,” he answers, “But, he’s the prince. And I’m just his tutor,” he mutters. Jeno catches onto the underlying  _ something _ that laces his words, making it obvious that, at least to Mark, he isn’t just Jaemin’s tutor.

Jeno places a hand on Mark’s shoulder, hoping to provide some comfort. “You’ll find him. I know it.”

Mark nods. “We will.” He looks at the time, “Oh crap, it’s almost sunset, let’s go over the basics one more time, and then we can go meet your ‘father.’ ”

_ ━━━━━━━━━ _

Renjun stands in the throne room, nervously waiting for the final second of the minute to pass, before it reaches sunset. Next to him, Yangyang looks defeated, which is reasonable, considering he’d been stood up by someone he’s never met.

Taeyong is seated at his throne, Doyoung and Johnny flanking his sides. Doyoung taps his foot nervously, and Johnny is suppressing a triumphant grin. The King’s face is dripping with disappointment, and  _ yikes _ , Renjun hopes that Jaemin survives if they find him. 

Renjun watches as the minute hand of his watch clicks into place, signalling the hour of sunset.He clicks his tongue in disappointment. “It’s official. Due to the disappearance of Prince Jaemin, the wedding to King Yangyang is cancelled--”

The door of the throne room slams open. “Your highness, Wait!” Mark calls out, rushing in. “May I, uh- introduce” he stutters, motioning to the open door, “Prince Jaemin.”

Everyone in the room perks up in interest, except for Johnny, who suppresses a panicked shout. 

“Honey?” Taeyong calls, getting up from where he’s seated.

Doyoung lets out an audible gasp, leaning towards the door to see Jaemin’s arrival.

Mark holds his breath, and Jeno walks in, painfully slow- to not mess up his posture. He mentally wills Jeno to go a little faster. Seeing the audience, Jeno picks up his pace, corners of his lips turning up into an awkward smile. 

Passing Renjun and Yangyang, Jeno’s feet decide it’s the perfect time for him and gravity to meet. “ _ Woah!- _ ” he yelps helplessly, as he trips on his shoes, too focused on keeping his head up. He grabs onto the nearest thing to grab onto, which happens to be Yangyang. 

Reflexively Yangyang’s hands fly out, steadying Jeno. Wordlessly he lets go, as Jeno sends a sheepish smile at him before continuing to greet the King. Yangyang’s eyes trail Jeno’s movements, and Renjun has to hold in a snicker.  _ He’s already whipped _ . 

“Jaemin?” Taeyong says in disbelief, eyes curving up into a relieved smile. “You’re back!” He laughs, probably from a mixture of stress and relief, pulling Jeno into a warm hug. “Where have you been?”

Johnny inches towards the entrance of the throne room, ready to make his escape when Jeno bows at Taeyong. “I am sorry,” Johnny frowns. _ Sorry? _

“I should not have run away like that,” Jeno finishes, albeit a little stiffly. 

“Just promise me you won’t do it again,” Taeyong asserts, but his tone betrays his relief that Jaemin is safe 

“Well I still think we should cancel the wedding-” Renjun cuts in. Johnny opens his mouth to agree, before Yangyang coughs. Loudly. “Ehem yes, But- an agreement is an agreement” He amends, “The wedding is back on! King Yangyang is due uh-” he glances at Yangyang, still disguised. “Tomorrow!”

“Tomorrow?” Jeno mutters to himself, panicked.

“Yes! And then it’ll be only a few days until the wedding!” Doyoung cheers.

“IF you’ll excuse me,” Johnny announces, despite the fact that no one would have noticed him slip out, “I  _ have _ to go check on some of the, ugh, arrangements!” He finishes with a flourish of his hand, storming out. On his way out, a slip of paper drops out of his suit pocket, something that Mark takes notice of.

Mark moves to follow him, shooting Jeno a reassuring look when the boy notices him move. “I’ll be back” he mouths at Jeno.

“Mark wait!” Taeyong calls out, “I want to hear everything about how you found Jaemin!”

Doyoung frets over Jeno, patting him and asking him if he’s okay, and where he’s been. 

“Of course, your majesty,” Mark grits out, bending over to pick up the piece of paper Johnny dropped, before turning back around. “Where should I begin?”

_ ━━━━━━━━━ _

Johnny’s “secret location” is actually one of his condos located on the outskirts of the village, and currently where Jaemin is being held. He sits on the admittedly comfortable bed provided, and wonders how two children were just able to kidnap him. 

The room looks generally untouched, it seems like Johnny doesn’t use it often. Well, he assumes it’s Johnny’s house, because there are various framed portraits of him scattered along the wall.  _ Narcissist _ . 

The walls are a plain beige, and it seems like this room remains largely unused, probably a place Johnny uses simply to flex the fact that he owns multiple properties. There’s a rolling chair and a desk located in the corner of the room, dust-free and almost brand now. Jaemin stores that information for later.

_ How long has it been? _ Jaemin thinks, remembering how he’d woken up in an unfamiliar room, with the rays of daybreak glinting against his eyelids.

He sighs, hearing two arguing voices get louder from the other side of the door. Getting up, he wiggles the doorknob. _ Damn, it’s still locked.  _ Pressing his ear against the wood of the door, he strains to hear what the two boys are talking about.

“Hey! You’re cheating!” Jisung yells, at a bored looking Chenle, who’s clutching onto a deck of cards. 

“How can I cheat at war?” Chenle scoffs, “I think you’re just bad at this.”

“You take that back right now or I’ll-”

Jaemin shakes his head, leaning away from the door. They’re absolutely useless. An idea pops into his head.  _ Maybe I can use this to my advantage _ .

He knocks loudly at the door, knowing he’s got their attention when the arguing stops.

“Hey,” one of the kidnappers scolds. “Keep it down! We’re doing important kidnapper stuff.”

“We’re playing war,” the other one deapands. 

“He doesn’t need to know that!”

Being in the same vicinity of them makes Jaemin’s blood pressure skyrocket. Nonetheless, he has to continue with his plan. “Wow.” He drawls. “I can’t believe I was outsmarted by a bunch of children.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” One of them says indignantly. 

“Oh nothing,” Jaemin says noncommittally, heaving the large rolling chair towards the door, positioning him adjacent to it. “Just surprised that you guys pulled together enough brain cells to kidnap me.”

“I just turned 18!” One says, voice getting louder as the kidnapper approaches the door. 

“And you’re the one who doesn’t have enough brain cells to see through our master plan!” The higher pitched voices chips in. 

“Oh yeah?” Jaemin sneers, “Congrats, you kidnapped a half-asleep prince. And it took two of you to do it!”

The voice gasps, belonging to Jisung. “How dare you! We’re the highest paid thieves in the city, we can steal  _ anything _ ”

“Steal anything?” Jaemin eggs on, “Sounds fake.”

“Jisung, you better hold me back, or else I’ll be throwing hands with this Crown Prince, I don’t care if he’s the most important person in the kingdom, I’ll do it!” The higher voice seethes, volume increasing. Jaemin knows his plan is working. 

“Woah Chenle, calm down! Remember, Johnny promised us that PS5!”

“Yeah, calm down Chenle,” Jaemin mocks, “You need to get your PUBG skills up!” At this, Jaemin knows he has both of his kidnappers riled up, as they fall into silence. 

“ _ Let me at him _ !” Chenle yells like a warcry, unceremoniously throwing the door open, an equally infuriated Jisung on his heels. “How dare you question our integrity-” He starts, getting cut off, as Jaemin pushes the rolling chair full force at the two. 

They topple over helplessly like dominoes, and Jaemin takes the chance. Sprinting out of the door, he slams it shut. The key is still in the lock,  _ stupid _ , and Jaemin turns it, throwing the key on the ground for good measure. 

“Fuck!” Jisung yells, “We’ve been set up!” 

Pounding on the door, Chenle yells, “Your royal ass just got onto my shitlist!”

Ignoring them, Jaemin scans the common room, searching for anything that could get him out. He spots a familiar pair of car keys, and snatches them, noting the Black Camry parked outside.

“I’d love to stay and chat boys, but I’ve got a royal advisor to expose!” Jaemin calls out, as he walks towards the Camry, headed straight for the castle.

“What do we tell Johnny?” Chenle asks from inside the condo, staring at the locked bedroom door.

“I have a plan,” Jisung says shakily, “But it’s temporary, so we need to find a way to flee the country before  _ he _ finds out.”

_ ━━━━━━━━━ _

Mark pulls into the driveway, double checking his phone to make sure Google Maps had put in the right address. The slip of paper Johnny dropped contained an address, and finally, after an hour of talking to the King, Mark was able to investigate. Pulling the car around the back of the condo, he gets out, crouching beneath a cracked open window. 

Two voices are talking to each other, and Mark strains his ear to catch wind of their conversation.

“I’m so bored!”

“Not my fault, I spy with my little eye….”

Another car pulls into the driveway, and Johnny hops out, slamming the door angrily. He throws open the door to the condo, entering the room where the open window is.

“You idiots!” Johnny’s voice booms from inside the condo. “How did you morons let the prince escape!”

“It’s not our fault!” Chenle scoffs from the bedroom, “He was asking for a fight!”

“And you just- let him go?” Johnny asked through gritted teeth. “I should’ve asked Jaehyun to help me.”

“Hey,” Jisung placates, “He hurt my feelings.”

“Your feelings?” The royal advisor screeches, before taking a contemplative breath. “I can understand how he escaped you fools, but why didn’t he tell the King he’d been kidnapped? I must figure it out, if I’m to be king.”

“King?” Mark gasps, “Johnny?”

In his haste to find out more about what happened to Jaemin, Mark straightens up, peering clearly into the window. Big mistake. Looking into the window, he makes direct eye contact with Johnny, who narrows his eyes. Shit. 

Backing up from the window, Mark runs towards his car, before he runs straight into a solid wall of Johnny. “Looking for something?” Johnny purrs, gripping onto Mark’s shoulders. 

“How can you be king, mph-” Mark questions, cut off as Chenle and Jisung shove him into his idling car. Damn, he shouldn’t have left his keys in the ignition.

Johnny cackles. “Take him away, boys!”

“To where?”

A sigh. “I’ll text it to you.”

_ ━━━━━━━━━ _

Jaemin drives up to the castle walls, ready to be let in.

“Who goes there?” A tower guard, Jungwoo, demands. 

“Prince Jaemin,” he announces. 

“Hah,” Jungwoo chuckles, “If you’re the Prince, then I’m the king!” 

“What? But I am literally the prince!” Jaemin asserts.

Jungwoo raises a finger, waggling it at Jaemin. “Then tell me why I just saw the prince eating dinner with the King!” He makes a shooing motion. “Now go, before I have to go down there and arrest you!” 

Jaemin starts to protest, but cuts off as Jungwoo raises a threatening hand, one he knows will sound the alarms. “Fine, but you’ll be hearing of this later, Jungwoo!”

Setting the car in reverse, Jaemin backs out of the castle driveway, aimlessly headed towards the outskirts of the city. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nothing like a good ol' case of identity theft
> 
> [my twt](https://twitter.com/lumheis)


	4. if you loved me for me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> jaemin escapes, jeno and yangyang meet, and the final pieces of johnny's plan fall into place

Driving through the city, Jaemin scans the walls of shops, searching for something familiar. Passing by the place him and Mark were, he remembers the boy he’d met while busking. 

_Jeno can help me_ , Jaemin thinks. He drives around the streets, scanning the storefronts for Yuta’s Suit Emporium. Spotting it, he pushes down on the accelerator, pulling into the parking lot of the small boutique. The lights are on, so Jaemin hopes that Jeno is around somewhere. 

“Hello?” He calls out, into the empty shop. “Is anyone there?”

A fluffy head of brown hair peeks out from a backroom, perking up when he sees Jaemin. “Jeno!”

“Jeno?” Jaemin says to himself, before getting tackled in a bear hug.

“Oh my god, you’re finally back,” the boy squeals, tightening his grip. “Never leave me alone with him ever again, Lee Jeno, or help me god-”

“I’m not-”

“Yuta was bitching all of yesterday about how you were off sidling up with ‘the royals,’ but something tells me that he was just jealous,” the boy pauses, taking in a deep breath. “And then he started nagging me! _The_ Lee Donghyuck, all by himself at the mercy of his evil boss, How could you!”

“I’m not-” Jaemin tries to say, but he’s cut off, _again_. 

“It’s okay, I’m just glad you and your cute little mole are back-” The boy freezes, thumb hovering over the place where Jeno’s mole should be. “Wait,” Donghyuck says, leaning backwards. “You’re not Jeno.”

“Obviously,” Jaemin scoffs, rolling his eyes. Taking Donghyuck’s shocked state as an opportunity to escape his death grip, he steps back. “I’ve been trying to say that for the past 15 minutes. We don’t even have the same hair color!” Jaemin motions towards his pink strands of hair. 

“I wasn’t going to question it,” Donghyuck says offhandedly. “Wait,” he eyes Jaemin suspiciously. “Who _are_ you?”

Jaemin straightens up proudly. “Jaemin.”

“Jaemin?” Donghyuck questions, “Like the prince?” He narrows his eyes at Jaemin, before they widen in recognition, mouth gaping like a fish out of water. “Oh my god” He says faintly. Jaemin laughs at his shocked state. 

“Yup,” Jaemin offers him a salute. “That’s me. I could’ve told you this from the start, but you kept _talking_.”

“Well sorry, _your highness_ ,” Donghyuck defends, raising his hands up in mock-surrender. “You guys look exactly the same, except you don’t have the mole that he has.”

“I also have pink hair.” Jaemin deadpans. 

“Details, details,” Donghyuck waves him off, leaning in curiously. “So, what _are_ you doing here?” 

“It’s a bit of a crazy story, but for now I need to speak to Jeno, do you know where he is?”

“No,” the other says apologetically. “Some guy from the castle came for him earlier this morning, and I haven’t seen him since.”

Some guy from the castle? Jaemin perks up, knowing that there was only one other person who knew about Jeno. “Did he have brown hair?” He asks, “Maybe around 5’9 and with really high cheekbones?”

“I think so,” Donghyuck nods, “He only stayed for a moment though, and I didn’t get to hear what they were talking about.”

“That’s Mark!” Jaemin says excitedly. “He must know what’s going on, do you have a phone?”

“Yeah,” Donghyuck says unsurely, pulling it out from his back pocket. “But no calls, my data plan charges me 50 cents per minute.”

“It’s okay,” Jaemin says, tapping out a few text messages. “I just have to arrange a ride.” He stares at the phone, waiting for a response. 

“How long will that take?” The tailor asks, peering over Jaemin’s shoulder. 

“I’m...” Jaemin starts, still glaring at the small phone. “Not sure.”

“That’s fine, you can just stay here, it’s been lonely without Jeno-”

“Jeno!” The door of another room in the shop slams open, and Yuta strides in, evil glint in his eye. 

“Oh god,” Donghyuck mutters.

“How nice of you to finally join us,” He drawls, stalking around Jaemin like a predator would stalk his prey. “You may have had a royal experience yesterday, but you still work for me!”

Jaemin cannot believe the audacity of this man, even Donghyuck was able to tell the difference between the two of them. “I’m the prince!” He says indignantly, puffing his chest up.

“Yeah, and I’m going to be the next Pope,” Yuta sneers back in a similar tone. He laughs out Jaemin’s affronted expression. “You have to do a lot more than dye your hair pink to convince me you’re royalty, Jeno. Get to work!”

Jeno’s boss ends their exchange that leaves no room for argument, once again leaving the room as fast as he’d appeared. 

Jaemin stands there, shell-shocked. Does Jeno really deal with this every day?

“Well,” Donghyuck claps him on the back. “How about I show you how we make the suits for your family commissions?”

_━━━━━━━━━_

The golden rays of sunlight gently batter his face, making Jeno’s skin glow in a subtle warmth. He blinks his eyes open, awakening when the sun gets a little too bright behind his closed eyelids. 

For a moment, he forgets where exactly he is, sitting up in a panic at the realization that he isn’t lying in his small bed back at Yuta’s. His eyesight clears up, and he takes in the unfamiliar high ceilings, gilded wallpaper, and overall grandness of the room he’s in. _Oh yeah._

The events from yesterday come back to him, and he winces, thinking about how today will go. He looks around the room one more time, spotting the pink wig perched on his bedside. _Nope, not a dream_. 

So he’s really doing this; he's going to attempt to be one of the most high profile people in the entire kingdom, for an undisclosed amount of time. Cool, cool. 

Getting up, he decides now would be a good time to prepare, before someone comes in. 

Mark had given him a vague idea of what his daily routine was like, but Jeno had barely processed anything, still caught up over the fact that he was doing something _highly illegal_ . Mark, who had disappeared last night after dinner, leaving Jeno with a hushed, “ _I’m going to investigate something, I’ll be back soon._ ”

Jeno can’t dwell on the royal tutor’s whereabouts, as he knows the sooner he finds Prince Jaemin, the sooner he can go back to his normal life.

For now, he’ll play the role assigned to him.

Besides, it’s nice how he has access to the most high quality things, even the tissues feel expensive. Eating his hot breakfast in bed, Jeno reminds himself not to get too comfortable. 

As per Mark’s predication, Doyoung crashes into his room around 8:30, reciting his surprisingly short agenda for the day. 

“You’ll be meeting King Yangyang today!”

Jeno pales at this, eyes widening in shock. He vaguely registers dropping his fork. “Today?” He asks, just in case he’d misheard.

“Yup!” Doyoung nods, “So I’ll leave you with a free morning, I’ll come when it’s time.” And with that, Doyoung sends him a diplomatic smile, slipping out of the room. 

Of course, Jaemin goes missing on probably one of the most important days of his life; when he’s going to meet King Yangyang. Jeno can’t believe his luck. Hopefully he can make a good impression on the other. 

Getting up, he walks around the room, deciding to take this time to take a better look around the bedroom.

Surprisingly, most of the Prince’s belongings are a multitude of books, ranging from fairytales to full-on textbooks. Moving on, he catches sight of an expensive looking radio, and he scrambles towards it, eager to see what channels it has. 

Turning on a radio that's playing the latest hits, Jeno perks up, deciding to let off some nervous energy by dancing it out. 

The sound of music attracts a passerby who pauses, peeking through the cracked open bedroom door. 

Peering inside, the visitor watches fondly as Jeno dances around his room, not caring about anything but following the groove of the music. 

There’s something captivating about the way the prince moves, something that draws the visitor in even more, pulling him into an even deeper intrigue, that makes him want to _know_ the prince, genuinely. 

“Yangyang?”

The visitor turns, sheepishly smiling at his own ambassador. 

“What are you doing? Nevermind, we have to go meet the king,” Renjun nags, pulling him away from the door. 

“I was just just exploring,” Yangyang says idly, throwing one last wistful glance at the Prince’s door. 

_━━━━━━━━━_

Yangyang is nervous. After the whole running-away-and-coming-back fiasco that took place yesterday, he wasn’t sure how to feel about seeing --much less talking to-- the person who’d essentially tried to stand him up before officially meeting. 

But, in a way, Yangyang understands. It can’t be easy, being thrust into a marriage, knowing the weight of the kingdom's prosperity lies on it. 

It’s different from yesterday. Now, he’s King Yangyang, not some ambassador from a far off kingdom. 

“I appreciate your understanding, your majesty.” He bows, after explaining why he’d originally come to the castle disguised as an ambassador. 

Taeyong nods warmly, communicating his understanding. “Likewise, King Yangyang. I apologize especially because of my son’s delay”

“I hope we can all just move past this smoothly,” Renjun cuts in, before the carousel of apologies can continue. 

Both kings nod in approval. 

“Jaemin should be arriving in any second,” Taeyong offers, to fill the silence. 

The door slams open; Doyoung must have an affinity for that, Yangyang thinks idly, as the royal advisor strolls in. 

“Ahem,” He coughs, posture pin straight. “May I present, Prince Jaemin.”

Prince Jaemin strolls in, for the second time with that dramatic entrance, and Yangyang has to catch his breath, once again floored at how _beautiful_ the other is. 

Somehow, the paintings of the prince don’t hold a candle to the real person, and Yangyang watches as he waltzes in, chin tilted upwards and aura exuding confidence. He’s wearing a simple suit, a simple white button up tucked into navy blue trousers with a matching blazer. The prince’s eyes are warm, scanning over everyone in the room. 

Renjun nudges Yangyang out of his reverie, signalling him to introduce himself. 

“Hi,” Yangyang stutters out, suddenly very nervous. “Uh, I’m Yangyang. The King”

Jaemin bows, tilting his head cutely when he gets a good look at his face. “Aren’t you the-”

“Ambassador?” Yangyang answers, sheepishly scratching the back of his neck. “Yes and no.” The prince looks even more confused, and Yangyang rushes to explain. “The _Sparknotes_ version is that I was in disguise.” 

“Oh,” Jaemin takes a moment to process this, and Yangyang braces himself, not sure how the prince will react. Instead, he giggles, hand coming up to cover his mouth. “That’s funny.”

The prince’s laugh is so melodic, something that makes the butterflies in his stomach move even more rapidly, and Yangyang all but swoons. It catches him off guard, and he tries to continue the conversation. “So,” he says eloquently. “Tell me about yourself.”

Jaemin lets out that same giggle, albeit a little more nervous, and Yangyang takes comfort in the fact that he isn’t the only one acting awkward. “Where do I start...”

“Do you,” Yangyang thinks back to earlier, desperate for a conversation starter. “Do you like to dance?” He finishes the questions rather lamely, but it doesn’t seem to matter in the end, with the way the prince lights up at the mention. Yangyang applauds himself internally for saying the right thing. 

“I love it!” He says enthusiastically, clapping his hands together. Yangyang swoons internally. Again. “Do you dance as well?”

“Ah,” Yangyang tilts his head. “I can’t say that I do.” The prince deflates slightly, and Yangyang rushes to amend his words. “But-- I’d love to hear more about it from you, if you’d like?” 

“Only if you want to,” Jaemin says shyly, fiddling with the cuffs of his suit.

“I do,” Yangyang says immediately, offering the other a genuine smile. 

“Oh,” Jaemin pauses for a moment, like he’s unsure of what to do, before he snorts, returning the smile. “Okay, but after this I’m going to teach you how to dance.”

“You can try,” Yangyang teases. “No promises.”

The dam between them is broken, and the nervous energy of their exchange dissipates, leaving a tentatively warm atmosphere. Jaemin delves into some impassioned rant about dancing, and Yangyang latches onto every word intently, although he barely understands any of it. Instead, he focuses on how the prince glows, speaking about something he is so obviously passionate about. 

_━━━━━━━━━_

“Where’s Johnny?” Taeyong quietly asks the other advisor, turning his attention away from the exchange. 

“I don’t know,” Doyoung shakes his head in disapproval. “He just called and said he’d come in late, something about his garbage disposal not working.”

The two are still talking enthusiastically, and Taeyong looks at them fondly. “I think we should leave them alone,” he stage-whispers to Doyoung, who hums in agreement. 

“We should,” Rejnun agrees, watching them with interest. It’s refreshing to see Yangyang so interested in someone.

“Jaemin,” Taeyong says, with a knowing look. “Why don’t you show King Yangyang around the garden?”

_━━━━━━━━━_

After being caught by Johnny, Mark had been taken to a different condo, another one of the advisor’s many unnecessary properties. 

Stumbling onto the bed from where Jisung had pushed him into an empty bedroom, he rushes towards the door, pounding on it when he hears the telltale sound of a lock clicking. “Why are you doing this?”

“The fuck if I know,” Chenle yawns, “I’m just here for the money.”

“Money?” Mark demands, a little crazed. “You’re involving yourself in an elaborate government conspiracy for _money_?”

“Yeah,” Jisung answers, as if that was the normal thing to do. “Lots of it.”

“Stop talking to him!” Johnny snaps from the couch, combing through Mark’s belongings, which are scattered around a small coffee table. “Come help me sort through these things.” 

“Do we have to?” Chenle scrunches his nose. “It’s not like he has anything important.”

“You never know,” Jisung says amicably, “Maybe he has some money in his wallet.”

“You’re right!” Chenle exclaims, deftly picking up the royal tutor’s wallet, opening it up. Mark makes a noise of protest in the background, which goes ignored. “$50 in cash? _Nice_!” Pulling out the bills, he waves it teasingly in front of Jisung

“Hey!” Jisung lunges towards the bills. “Those are mine!”

“Nu-uh,” Chenle sticks out his tongue. “Finders keepers!”

Johnny rolls his eyes. They’re useless. Tuning them out to the best of his ability, he shifts his focus back to Mark’s belongings, looking for anything that may help him track down the prince.

Just his luck, at that moment, Mark’s phone buzzes. 

It lights up, and Johnny holds it up, seeing a new incoming text message.

**1-800-241-9876**

mark! it’s jaemin, what’s going on?

whenever u get the chance i’m at yuta’s suit emporium, where jeno works

im safe, just come and get me

Perfect. Jaemin just gave Johnny literal directions to where he was. 

The chess pieces are exactly where he wants them to, and Johnny triumphs at the way another one falls into place. 

Johnny looks at his lackeys, who are still bickering over who gets to keep the stolen money. He snaps his fingers, causing them to fall into a begrudging silence. “Jisung, stay here and keep watch over our royal tutor here” Johnny pulls up Google Maps, typing in the address for _Yuta’s Suit Emporium._ “Chenle, you’re coming with me”

“Why am I on babysitting duty?” Jisung whines, ignoring Mark’s affronted scoff. 

“Because I don’t trust Mark alone... or you two together.” Johnny answers, motioning for Chenle to follow him outside, which he does. Tapping out a text message back, Johnny tucks the phone away, getting into his other Toyota Camry.

“Where are we going?” Chenle asks curiously, sliding into the passenger seat. 

“You’ll see.” Johnny says cryptically, starting the car. 

_━━━━━━━━━_

When the king had suggested for him to show the other around the garden, Jeno had almost panicked, sheepishly having to ask one of the castle staff _where_ exactly the garden was. Now, he takes in the sight of the beautiful castle gardens, hand-in-hand with Yangyang. Winding paths travel around the front yard of the castle, paved with large assortments and arrangements of flowers. 

Sort of like a painting, one composed of a multitude of vibrant colors. 

“-So you learned how to dance all by yourself?” Yangyang asks, completely taken with Jeno’s ramblings. 

“Yup! I watched a couple videos online, and just taught myself from there.” 

“That’s amazing,” He breathes out, incredibly floored. “Can you show me?” Yangyang bounces excitedly, tugging on the sleeve of Jeno’s blazer.

Reluctantly, Jeno steps back, doing some choreo he’d seen from a dance crew on Yuta’s grainy television. Yangyang cheers, clapping along to the silent beat. 

“Woah,” Yangyang watches when Jeno gets more into it, doing a complicated looking spin. “I didn’t know that was possible, you’re amazing!”

Jeno flushes underneath the praise, scratching the back of his neck. “It’s nothing.”

“I disagree,” Yangyang insists. “You have some real talent”

The genuinity of Yangyang’s words catch him off guard. “You think so?” He asks shyly.

“100%” Yangyang nods, sending him a confident smile. “Hey, can you teach me how to dance like that now?”

Jeno laughs. “I can try.”

Honestly, Jeno had no idea what to expect from his _‘fiance_ ,’ but was pleasantly surprised to find out that he enjoyed the other’s company. Yangyang was sweet, witty, and listened to him in a way that made Jeno feel like he was genuinely interested in him. 

And more importantly, Yangyang stands in front of him, clumsily attempting to do the dance moves he’d taught him. _It’s terrible_ , Jeno thinks, watching as Yangyang flails his limbs about, with an air of confidence. 

“How did I do?” Yangyang cheekily asks, doing another terrible dance move. 

Jeno hums, watching fondly. “Maybe you should stick to ruling kingdoms.”

“ _Rude!_ ” Yangyang says with no heat, smiling up at Jeno. 

The sight of the other male smiling up at him makes Jeno’s heart _yearn_. Again, he envies prince Jaemin, but not because of his status, but because he wishes he could be with Yangyang like this all the time.

Although he was supposed to be acting like the prince, getting to know Yangyang was something that required him to reveal his genuine personality. And through that, Jeno had found himself falling for the other. 

“Hey,” Yangyang says softly, noticing his shift in demeanor. “Is everything okay?” He reaches a hand up to cup Jeno’s face, which feels a little silly due to their height difference. Jeno appreciates the casual touch, unconsciously leaning into the warmth.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, “Just thinking about how nice this is.”

“It is, isn’t it?” Yangyang looks at him so softly, as if he’s the most beautiful person in the world, and Jeno feels like his heart is going to burst. “You’re a lot different than I’d expected, Na Jaemin.”

Being addressed by the wrong name gives Jeno another painful reality check. This isn’t his life, he’s merely a stand-in, an understudy, before the real Jaemin can come and take his life back. He wonders if the real Jaemin would connect as well to Yangyang. Selfishly, he wishes they wouldn’t.

Yangyang doesn’t falter at his silence, taking the liberty to simply watch the other man think, giving him time to recuperate his thoughts. It’s so intimate, the way that Yangyang looks at him, and Jeno reminds himself that _this_ is the product of Jeno and Yangyang, not Jaemin and Yangyang. 

“You’re different too,” Jeno says instead, pushing away his impostor feelings. Just this once, he’ll allow himself a moment of indulgence. “Shorter, for one-”

“Hey,” Yangyang laughs, all gums and teeth on display. His hand falls down from his cheek, resting on Jeno’s broad shoulder. “That was a low blow,” he giggles, not offended in the slightest. 

He looks beautiful under the soft glow of the sunset, features highlighted by the warm hues of the setting sun. A comfortable silence settles on them, and Jeno reaches down to intertwine their fingers, ignoring the playful look that Yangyang shoots at him.

Yangyang runs his thumb over Jeno’s, lost in thought. His face is scrunched up adorably, and he chews on his bottom lip. 

“Is everything alright?” Jeno prods.

“Well,” Yangyang shifts into a serious tone, gaze boring into Jeno’s. “I just wanted to know- How do you feel? About this whole,” he waves a hand. “Wedding situation.” 

Jeno sucks in a quick breath. “I think,” he trails off, wondering whether he should speak as the Prince or as himself. He chooses himself. “It’s part of my duty.”

Yangyang deflates, although he knew that his answer would be like that.

“But-” Jeno adds on, “I’m glad that it’s you.”

“Oh,” Yangyang averts his eyes, red flush hot on his cheeks. “Me too.”

Something charged fills the air after Jeno’s confession, and he holds his breath, wondering if the other can feel it too. Time stands still for the two, trapped in their own little bubble.

Jeno purses his lips, watching as Yangyang tracks the movement. Trailing his eyes downwards, his eyes also land on the King’s lips, overcome with a desire to know what they feel like. 

Yangyang notices, shyly looking up at the other. “I know it’s early, but-” 

“It isn’t” Jeno blurts out, tracking the way Yangyang’s tongue peeks out to wet his bottom lip.

Yangyang scoffs, although he leans in, until their faces are scant inches apart. “Do you even know what I was going to say?”

“No,” Jeno says sweetly. “But I’ll take my chances” And in a moment of bravery, he closes the gap between them, lips connecting in a sweet kiss.

Yangyang immediately melts into it, and Jeno triumphs at reading the situation correctly. His eyes flutter shut, and he inhales deeply through his nose, getting lost in the feeling of Yangyang’s lips against his. 

A songbird sings in the distance, and Jeno shivers as a cool dusk breeze ripples through the air, making him shift closer to the man in front of him. His hand reaches up to cradle the back of Yangyang’s head. 

“I really like you,” Yangyang breathes out, pressing his forehead against his, hand snaking down to intertwine with his.

“I do too.” Jeno admits, truthfully.

It’s bittersweet, holding Yangyang in his arms like this. He hadn’t expected to fall this hard for the other, but it was easy-- with his wide smiles and attentive nature. Acting smitten with him was as easy as breathing. 

Jeno isn’t sure if it’s still an act anymore. 

_━━━━━━━━━_

Jaemin groans in frustration, as the sewing machine catches on the suit pattern, _again_. 

“Maybe you aren’t meant for this,” Donghyuck says reluctantly, watching as Jaemin rips out the pattern, throwing it into the ever-growing pile of failures. “Once this is over, you might want to pay Yuta back for all that wasted material.”

“I will, I will,” Jaemin acquiesces. “I just wanted to see how it’s done.” He turns towards Donghyuck, with an almost-reverent look. “This takes so much skill, I have a newfound respect for you two.”

Donghyuck puffs up in pride. “As you should,” He turns back to his own sewing machine, where he’s making a suit that looks significantly better than Jaemin’s failed attempt. “It’s not that hard, once you get used to it.”

“I don’t think I ever will,” Jaemin mutters, stepping away from the sewing machine. 

A faint buzz thrums through the shop, and Donghyuck brightens up. “Oh, that must be whoever you texted!” Getting up, he shuffles around his bag, handing his phone to Jaemin.

Jaemin bounces excitedly. Finally, he was going to see Mark after these hellish days. 

im safe, just come get me

**1-800-897-1284**

I’m On my Way! 

Outside now.

“He’s here!” Jaemin squeals, hugging Donghyuck in excitement. “Thank you so much!”

“No problem,” Donghyuck smiles. “It was nice meeting you, _your highness_.”

Jaemin pulls back, oddly emotional. “I’ll miss you.”

Donghyuck rolls his eyes. “We met like 12 hours ago.”

“Still.”

“Well, you know where to find me,” Donghyuck offers softly. “In case you ever want to visit.”

“I will,” Jaemin promises. “And hey, maybe someday-”

A loud beep comes from outside, from a car. 

Donghyuck startles, yelping in surprise. “What was that?”

“I think that was Mark,” Jaemin frowns. “I guess he doesn't want to come in.” He sends Donghyuck an apologetic glance. “I really do appreciate what you’ve done for me. I hope we see each other again.”

“Me too,” Donghyuck smiles, wincing when the car beeps again. “But you better leave right now before we get noise complaints.” He says, pushing Jaemin out of the shop. “Good luck!”

“Bye!” Jaemin smiles, approaching the parked car. If he were looking carefully, he would’ve noticed how heavily tinted the car’s windows were, or how the car was the same model as the one Johnny drove.

Turning back, he sends Donghyuck one last wave, while opening the back door of the car, getting inside. Closing the door, he hears the lock click in.

Slumping against the backseat, Jaemin readies his story, as the car starts moving. “Mark, you will not believe it, but Johnny is-” Jaemin cuts himself off, noticing that there are two people in the car, neither of them looking like Mark.

“Hm?” the driver purrs, who definitely does Not sound like Mark. 

Horrified, Jaemin straightens up, meeting Johnny’s eyes through the rearview mirror. “ _You!_ ”

“Me!” Johnny says delightedly, “Good to see you again, _your highness!_ ”

“What are you doing?” Jaemin demands, “Just you wait until my father hears about this.”

“You father won’t be hearing anything from you for a while my dear.” Johnny laughs, pressing down hard on the accelerator so that Jaemin falls back from the increased speed. 

“Take me back to the castle, at once!”

“I don’t answer to you,” Johnny says snidely. “I’m afraid we won’t be going to the castle...”

Jaemin crosses his arms, huffing at the fact that he’d just managed to get kidnapped, _again_. “You won;t get away with this.”

“But I will,” The driver insists, “The last pieces of my plan are finally falling into place...”

“It’s a very good plan, too!” A voice from the passenger seat chimes in, oddly familiar.

“You again?” Jaemin seethes, glaring at the person seated in the passenger seat, an all-too-familiar face.

“I bet you thought you’d seen the last of me, bitch!” Chenle jeers, sticking his tongue out at him. Jaemin scoffs, rolling his eyes. 

“Be nice,” Johnny chides, like a mother scolding her kids. Jaemin doesn’t think that tone is appropriate for the current situation. 

“Okay,” Chenle agrees, before spinning around once again to where Jaemin is seated in the backseat, flipping him off. Johnny slaps it down, causing the car to swerve as he takes one hand off the wheel to do so. 

Jaemin throws his head back onto the seat in disbelief, at the fact that he’d just gotten kidnapped, _again_. This is going to be a long ride.

_━━━━━━━━━_

Mark perks up, hearing the door to the condo open. Scrambling up, he approaches the still-locked door, pressing his ear against it to catch any conversation. 

“ _You won’t get away with this!_ ” a voice yells, audibly struggling. Mark gasps, the voice an all-too-familiar sound to him. 

It’s Jaemin. 

Two conflicting emotions hit Mark at the same time. A part of him sags in relief, now that he knows that Jaemin, at least, is safe. The other part of him sounds a thousand alarm bells, because if Jaemin is here, that means Johnny has gotten to him as well. 

Speak of the devil, he hears the royal advisor response. 

“ _I already have,_ ” Johnny smirks. “ _You being here just proves it._ ”

And with that, the door to the bedroom next to him opens and closes, lock clicking in place. 

“ _Goodbye, your highness!_ ” Johnny purrs, walking away from where Jaemin pounds on the door. 

“ _Keep watch outside with Chenle,_ ” Johnny directs someone else, probably Jisung. “ _I have one more thing to do._ ”

“ _Aye aye, captain!_ ” Jisung chirps, their conversation growing fainter and fainter as they head outside. 

Mark holds his breath, making sure that both Jisung and Johnny are outside. Once the coast is clear, he rushes towards the other end of the room, with the all separating him and Jaemin’s room.

He knocks gently on the wall, in the familiar pattern that he and Jaemin have memorized. “Jaemin?”

Someone shuffles around in the other room, and he hears footsteps growing louder until it reaches the wall he's stationed at. “Mark?” Jaemin asks hopefully. “Is that you?”

“It is,” Mark confirms, smiling at the mere sound of the other’s voice. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine,” Jaemin says dismissively, “More importantly, _what_ is going on?”

“It’s a long story,” Mark sighs, voice muffled from the wall between them. “But we have time.”

_━━━━━━━━━_

“So,” Taeyong says smugly, watching as Jeno and Yangyang send each other surreptitious glances. “I take it that you guys are ready for the wedding?” Behind him, Doyoung smiles ecstatically, pleased by how well the two of them get along.

“Are we?” Yangyang asks, sending Jeno a questioning glance. 

“We are.” Jeno affirms smiling back at Yangyang. In his mind, Jeno is actually freaking out, mainly because Mark has been absent all day, and he’s not sure how much longer he can spend as Prince Jaemin before his heart fully falls for the other. 

“This is amazing!” Taeyong beams, “I’m so glad you two get along so well! Is there anything else we should arrange for the wedding?”

Renjun clears his throat, nudging Yangyang from where he’s still entranced by Jeno.

“Oh yeah,” Yangyang says. “I have one final gift,” Motioning for Renjun to come forward, he bounces excitedly. Accepting the small box outstretched in his companion’s hand, Yangyang opens it, suppressing a smile when he hears Jeno’s awed gasp as he takes in the content of the box. 

It’s a ring.

The ring is simple, something unexpected from Yangyang’s extravagant nature. It’s a thin silver band, with a small, glittering diamond nestled in the middle.

“Is that-”

“-An engagement ring,” Yangyang finishes. He smiles softly, motioning for Jeno to hold out his hand. 

He does, allowing Yangyang to slip the ring onto his finger. It slips onto his finger with ease, the cool silver metal a comforting presence. 

“It’s perfect,” Jeno says awestruck, looking back into Yangyang’s eyes. The other watches him fondly, sending him a secret smile.

Shyly, Jeno leans in, ready to meet Yangyang in a kiss-

“Stop!” Johnny bursts into the throne room, heaving from exertion. Jeno and Yangyang jump apart, startled by the interruption. Barreling towards Jeno, Johnny grabs him harshly by the arm. “He’s an imposter!”

“What is the meaning of this?” Taeyong demands, watching as Johnny manhandles a struggling Jeno. “Let go of my son!”

“Your son?” Johnny laughs. “This is not your son.”

“Then who is he?” Doyoung cuts in urgently. “And where is Jaemin?”

“I was out searching for Mark,” Johnny says instead, starting his elaborate story. Doyoung scoffs, but listens anyway. “-when I found _this_ on the ground!” Dramatically, he digs into his suit pocket, pulling out the Cartier love bracelet that was gifted to Jaemin earlier, holding it out like a damning piece of evidence. To be fair, it is-- with the way a gasp echoes around the room. 

“Is that-” Taeyong says in disbelief.

“The prince’s bracelet? Why yes it is, and it was all I found of him.” Johnny adopts a mournful tone. “-Right at the edge of a cliff.”

“No,” Taeyong gasps, eyes welling up in tears. He falls backwards, and Doyoung catches him, holding the king protectively in his arms. 

“Yes,” Johnny says sadly. “The prince,” He pauses for dramatic effect. “Is dead! And he-” He points an accusatory finger at Jeno, “Is an imposter!”

“He can’t be!” Doyoung protests, still supporting the grieving king.

“But he is,” Johnny insists. “Look at this!” He points an accusing finger at Jeno’s face, specifically at the mole underneath his eye. “Prince Jaemin does _not_ have this birthmark! See for yourself.” 

He motions for the king to come forward, which he does, stumbling out of Doyoung grasp. 

Leaning in, Taeyong brushes a finger against the mole under Jeno’s eye, which is definitely not something that Jaemin has. “Who _are_ you?” He asks horrified, jumping back as if the touch burned him. 

“This is Lee Jeno,” Johnny announces. Tearing off the pink wig, relishing in the way the room grows even more horrified at his revelations. “A poor tailor, who somehow managed to infiltrate the castle. On your word, your highness, I will take him out of your hands.”

 _This was not part of the plan,_ Jeno thinks, as all eyes snap towards the king. Mark is still missing, and Jeno’s not sure he can talk his way out of this. Instead, he hangs his head, avoiding Taeyong’s shell shocked look.

Jeno’s lack of defense tells the King everything he needs to know. “Take him away,” Taeyong grinds out, voice full of emotion. 

“Gladly,” Johnny smirks, roughly grabbing onto Jeno’s arm, leading him out of the castle.

_━━━━━━━━━_

There’s something about Johnny that makes Yangyang’s stomach churn with unease.

“Hey,” Renjun says, “Are you okay?” Placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, Renjun’s eyes soften sympathetically. “It must be scary knowing that you were bonding with a criminal.”

 _Criminal?_ Yangyang’s lip curls downwards at that word choice. Jaemin-- which he knows now is actually Jeno, isn’t capable of doing this. Not without a good reason. “I’m fine.”

“If you want, we could press charges-”

“No way,” Yangyang says immediately. “He hasn’t done anything wrong.”

Something’s wrong with this, but he can’t figure out who to confide in. Obviously not Renjun, who looked at Jeno with thinly veiled discontent. He’d simply claim that Yangyang wasn’t thinking straight, that he had been deceived.

Scanning his eyes around the room, his eyes land on the king’s other royal advisor. Danny? No, Doyoung. Doyoung is frowning deeply, not at Jeno, but rather at Johnny. Perhaps he’s thinking the same thing as him, and Yangyang makes a mental note to talk to the other. 

_━━━━━━━━━_

Later in the night, Johnny slips into the King’s quarters, finally able to suggest the proposition he’s been aiming at for his entire career. 

“Unless you can bring back my son,” Taeyong says stiffly, “I doubt anything you say to me will have any meaning.”

“And that’s terribly tragic, truly,” Johnny says in mock-sympathy. “But recently i’ve had a- let’s call it a business endeavor, and I’ve accumulated a great deal of wealth. I’m probably just as rich as King Yangyang.”

“Okay,” Taeyong says noncommittally. “What does this have to do with anything?”

“I think you know, _your highness_ ,” Johnny purrs. “Without Yangyang’s wealth, the kingdom is going to fall even deeper into a recession”

Taeyong sucks in a breath, finally understanding what Johnny’s goal is. 

“With me by your side, as an official _Royal_ , I can nurse the kingdom back to health, bring it back to what it once was.” Johnny eyes the display case, holding the other crown of royalty. 

“I dont know….” Taeyong trails off, but his resolve is already crumbling. With the loss of his son, and the kingdom's failing health, there’s not many options left, and Taeyong needs to act fast. Why not just take the path Johnny’s already cleared out?

“How can you refuse?” Johnny asks, but he already knows he’s won, with the way Taeyong presses his lips into a firm line, eyes hardening. 

“Fine.” Taeyong says heavily. “We’ll hold a Royal Wedding as planned.”

Checkmate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aha.... we've hit the midpoint...  
> [my twt](https://twitter.com/lumheis)


	5. when you find the place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the royal wedding approaches, and each party plans

Usually, the days preceding a royal wedding are joyous, oftentimes filled with anticipation and excitement. This time, a dark cloud hangs over the kingdom, reeling over the sudden loss of the young prince. 

Doyoung refuses to falter, throwing himself even deeper into the wedding preparations, desperate to find distractions from the inevitable future. Conflict grows within him, as he grows even more suspicious of his counterpart, and his motivations. 

The counterpart, Johnny, goes about as normal, basking in the new treatment as he prepares to become another member of the royal family. His good mood is one that stands out from everyone else, the prince’s “death” doing little to dampen his spirit. 

Yangyang, at his own insistence, stays for the wedding; both to show support for the grieving King, and to do some of his own investigating. Jeno isn’t in the wrong, he just needs to find out how to prove it. 

Renjun stays as a result of being King Yangyang’s consort, and he demands a vacation from the King as compensation: which is wholeheartedly agreed to. 

Probably the most affected one is King Taeyong, who spends the days preceding the wedding floating in and out of reality, refusing to accept the sudden loss of his son. But something must be done to save the kingdom, and duty calls.

_━━━━━━━━━_

Somewhere else, the prince paces around his room, more like a jail cell, agonizing over what’s been happening over the past couple of days. In the room adjacent to him, Mark offers him hushed reassurances.

The two people that are supposed to keep watch on them are currently passed out, the loud snoring filtering through; a clear sign that they can talk to each other freely. 

“It’ll be alright,” Mark tries, though he knows that everything has gone downhill. It’s been 3 days since Johnny had captured Jaemin, yet again, and it seems like everyone in the kingdom believed Jaemin was gone. 

“It wont,” Jaemin blinks back tears of frustration. “Everyone in the kingdom thinks I’m _dead_ , and Johnny is about to become the king! Not to mention, Jeno’s been dragged into this, and he’s probably in a castle holding cell now!”

Mark winces, knowing that getting Jeno involved and subsequently leaving him to fend for himself was not a good idea in hindsight. 

The real reason why Jaemin had come out personally to help Jisung that night was because it felt like it could be his last act of rebellion, his final spontaneous decision before he was officially tied down with the weight of his own kingdom. 

The most prominent emotion that bubbles within him, underneath fear, anger, and regret is disappointment; disappointment aimed only towards himself. 

“Hey,” Mark says softly, even though his voice is already soft due to them talking to each other between the walls. “It’s not your fault.” 

_It is._

“Jaemin?” Mark says again, when he’s met with more silence. “It really isn’t your fault.”

“How can it not be?”

“Johnny’s been planning this for a while.” He states. “The recession, the kidnapping, it was all his plot to be king. If Chenle and Jisung hadn’t have gotten to you, he would’ve found a way.” 

Although it brings Jaemin some sort of comfort knowing that it’s not entirely his fault, there’s still a nagging feeling tugging deep at his chest. If Johnny went through all of these lengths to become king, when would he stop? 

Mark seems to come to the same conclusion, and they plunge into a depressive silence, the only source of noise coming from their snoring captors. 

Jaemin shares the thought that is shared between the both of them. “We need to stop him.” 

“We do,” Mark confirms, tapping onto the wall out of habit. It forms a steady rhythm, one that Jaemin finds oddly comforting.

“Before he becomes my step-father” Jaemin quips, lips upturning in a bitter smile.

Mark laughs, probably at the absurdity of it all. 

Jaemin follows in laughter too, but for a different reason. Being with Mark has been the only solace brought to him these past days, and the sound of his laughter brings him some sort of peace. Jaemin can imagine it vividly, the corner of his eyes scrunched up, lips upturned. 

Before, he’d simply accepted that Mark was never going to be an option for him; the duties of royalty were too heavy. 

Now, he imagines what Mark’s smile looks like, the image burned permanently in his memory. There’s no way he’d ever let that go, not after he’s seen what hangs in the balance, fate unclear even as the climax grows nearer.

_If we get out of here,_ Jaemin promises, _I’ll follow what’s been written in my heart._

_━━━━━━━━━_

Jeno wakes up to the sound of waves crashing on the seashore. 

For a moment, he thinks he’s actually died, and heaven is some sort of all-inclusive tropical resort. 

Of course, that thought quickly fizzles out when he blinks open his eyes, blearily taking in his surroundings. Waking up in an unfamiliar room seems to be a common theme this past week, but the sight of this room only brings him dread.

The small room has a window, one that has an admittedly beautiful view of the beach, the waves of the ocean clearly washing over the sea. Inside there’s a modest bed, coupled with a desk. It’s seemingly normal-- except for the large framed painting of Johnny on the wall across from the bed.

Jeno shivers looking at it, averting his eyes to the view of the ocean. 

He can’t tell how many days it’s been. _Two? Three?_ At least Johnny was gracious enough to allow him access to a somewhat stocked mini-fridge. 

To be honest, he had no clue what was going to happen next, and that terrified him. _Was Mark going to find him? Was he going to spend the rest of his days locked up somewhere? How is Donghyuck? And how is Yang--_

_Yangyang_. Jeno winces thinking back to their last interaction, where Jeno had been ousted dramatically by Johnny. The stunned look Yangyang had burned into his memory. There’s no way he can explain himself to the other; even if he makes it out of this fiasco alright. 

He twists the engagement ring around his finger; Johnny had dragged him out before he could return it. Technically he shouldn’t even be wearing it, but it brings him a semblance of comfort; a sign of something good that had come out of this. 

The sun rises across the ocean waves, and Jeno allows himself a moment to take in the sight. Brilliant hues of purple, pink, and orange paint the sky as the sun peeks over the ocean, and rays of sun reflect off of the waves, glinting off of the surface to make it seem almost sparkly. 

It’s beautiful, but the sign of another day brings Jeno a wave of dread. 

_What happens next?_

_━━━━━━━━━_

Yangyang slinks around the castle halls, scanning around for the person he’s been trying to catch alone. Just his luck, a tall head of black hair pops out from the throne room, headed straight towards where Yangyang idly stands in the hallway. 

“Doyoung!” Yangyang calls out, watching as the advisor looks around, before pointing at himself in confusion. “Yes, you!” 

“Your majesty-” Doyoung bows, “Is everything alright?”

“We need to talk.” Beckoning for Doyoung to come close, he smiles non-threateningly. Once the advisor is mere feet away he jumps, pushing the other against the wall.

It paints a rather peculiar picture; Yangyang is a solid 5 inches shorter than Doyoung, holding him at an arm's-length against the wall, while he pins the advisor down with an oddly intense glare.

“What--” Doyoung flusters. “What is the meaning of this?”

“It’s about Jeno,” Yangyang says seriously. 

At the mention of the imposter Doyoung stiffens, schooling his features diplomatically. “He’s been taken care of,” Doyoung says, most likely trying to sound reassuring but coming off stiffly. “You don’t need to worry about him.”

Yangyang shakes his head. “I think you and I both know _Jeno_ isn’t the villain in this story,” He says insistently, grabbing Doyoung by the shoulders. By emphasizing _Jeno_ , Yangyang hopes Doyoung can infer who exactly he thinks is the villain.

Doyoung averts his eyes, not meeting Yangyang’s. He bites his lip, deep in thought as he thinks about what to say. Yangyang stares at him intently, waiting for him to make a decision. “I do,” He admits, deflating against the wall.. 

“I knew it.” Yangyang says triumphantly, leaning back. 

“But there’s nothing I can do about it,” Doyoung sighs. “He’s not in the castle prison, I checked already. I think Johnny took him somewhere, but he won’t tell me where.” Frustratedly, Doyoung leans his head back. “If only we could just-”

A door opens, and Yangyang pushes Doyoung into a conveniently opened storage closet, cracking the door open to see who had just come out.

“What the-”

_“I’m heading there now, meet me there”_

That’s Johnny’s voice, Doyoung realizes, and his eyes widen in recognition as he casts a meaningful glance at the king in front of him. Yangyang returns the glance, tilting his head, silently telling Doyoung to listen. 

_“I’ll dispose of him after the wedding, but for now we just need to make sure he stays where he is.”_

“Dispose of him?” Doyoung mouths. 

“He must be talking about Jeno.” Yangyang peeks out into the hallway, watching as Johnny strolls down the hallway. 

“ _Ugh_ ,” Johnny groans in annoyance. “ _Write this down, i’ll tell you the address. 156, TBT Lane. Got it?_ ”

“That must be where he’s keeping Jeno,” Yangyang gasps out, clutching at the lapels of Doyoung’s suit. “We need to follow him.”

“What about your companion?”

“Renjun?” Yangyang blinks. “He’s taking a vacation day. Crap, do you remember the address?”

“I do,” Doyoung smirks, holding up his phone, where he presses end on a voice recording. “We need a plan.”

_━━━━━━━━━_

The day of the wedding comes like a rolling storm, ready to leave nothing but destruction in its path. The fate of the kingdom hangs on this very event, one that weighs heavily on the king, who is still hesitant on whether or not it should still be held.

Doyoung and Yangyang spend more time together, monitoring Johnny’s every move, as they plan a way to upscale his entire plan. 

And Johnny, oblivious to it all, goes about his day, ready to become the one thing he’s dreamed of becoming. 

_━━━━━━━━━_

Johnny bursts in, startling awake Chenle and Jisung, who were passed out on the couch. 

“Who’s that?” Chenle mumbles sleepily, rolling over onto his stomach.

Jisung yawns, sitting up and making direct eye contact with Johnny, who folds his arms around his chest threateningly. “ _Oh, shit!_ ” He bites out, falling down in his surprise. 

“What-” Chenle’s eyes widen as well, and he scrambles up, sending Johnny an angelic smile. “What’s up?”

Because he’s in a good mood, Johnny ignores the other two’s antics. “You guys,” Johnny opens his arms, as if he’s giving them an offering. “-Are going to be my wedding entourage.” He shuts his eyes, ready to hear the chorus of _thank yous_ from the other two. 

Instead of being met with endless thanks, Johnny’s proposition is met with a distrustful silence. Popping an eye open, he glares at the other two, who look at him like he’s grown three heads.

“U-Us?” Jisung asks skeptically, pointing a finger at himself and then at his companion. 

“Yup.” Johnny confirms, in a tone that leaves no room for argument. 

“Why?” Chenle asks.

Jisung shares Chenle’s confusion. “We don’t even know you, I don’t even have a suit for weddings-”

“Just-” Johnny’s eye twitches. “Come with me. Before I leave you guys here for another 5 days.”

“I won’t question it,” Jisung raises his hands in surrender. “I’ll take any opportunity to get out of here.”

“Me too,” Chenle agrees, following Johnny out. “But what about the other two?” He asks, inclining his head towards the rooms where the prince and his tutor are being kept.

“They’re not important,” Johnny says dismissively. “They haven’t escaped yet, and once I’m king I can properly dispose of them.”

Jaemin leans back from where he was listening in on their conversation. “Dispose of us?” He mutters to himself. That doesn’t sound good.

Tapping a series of patterns on the wall, he acknowledges the same pattern being tapped back; Mark must’ve been listening as well.

Johnny and Chenle are bickering about appropriate wedding attire, and Jaemin barely suppresses an eyeroll. He’ll never understand how they’d managed to kidnap him, _twice_. Their voices fade out, and Jaemin hears the telltale sound of a Camry starting up. 

“I think they’re gone,” Jaemin announces, once the house grows silent after the other three’s departure. “Do you have a plan?”

_━━━━━━━━━_

Yangyang stands at the entrance to the ceremony, scanning the crowd to catch sight of Doyoung. Guests are piling into the venue, and he ignores the curious looks he gets; he’s wearing a large sunhat, as to not draw attention. It doesn’t work, perhaps he should’ve worn a baseball cap. 

From the day they’d overheard Johnny to now, they’d devised somewhat of a plan, one that loosely involved saving Jeno and then exposing Johnny. 

Well-- the saving Jeno part was down. The exposing Johnny part was still a little unclear. 

Renjun walks past on his phone, probably texting Yangyang inquiring how late he was going to be. Yangyang ducks his head to cover his face with the hat, not wanting to be seen by his companion. He hadn’t told Renjun about the plan, simply telling the other he’d be late to the wedding. 

Pulling out his phone, he ignores the 50 missed text messages and 4 missed calls from Renjun, instead typing out a frantic message to Doyoung. 

**super secret spy mission partner**

hey

where r u 

Look up.

Just as he reads the text a loud _beep!_ sounds through the air, catching the attention of Yangyang-- and the wedding guests within a 50 foot radius. 

Scrambling towards the source of the beep, Yangyang stops at a white Honda Civic, tapping on the glass. The window rolls down, revealing Doyoung, who also adorns a disguise: a pair of sunglasses. 

“You ready?” Doyoung asks, pausing when he takes in Yangyang’s disguise. He doesn’t even try to hide his judgement. “ _Really?_ That’s your excuse for a disguise?”

“It’s sunny!” Yangyang defends loudly, sending an apologetic smile to an elderly couple who passes by, startled by his outburst. “It’s better than a pair of sunglasses,” He accuses, waving a hand at Doyoung’s disguise. “You look exactly the same!”

“No I don’t,” Doyoug deadpans, pointing up to his hair. “I parted my hair on the other side too.” 

It takes every nerve in Yangyang’s body not to smack one of the neighboring kingdom’s most important people upside the head. 

Doyoung smiles, pleased at winning their round of bantering. “Come on,” He notions towards the passenger seat. “Let’s go before the wedding starts.”

Yangyang raises a brow. “Aren’t you a royal advisor? Won’t it be suspicious that you aren’t at the wedding?”

“Nah,” Doyoung says dismissively. “I told King Taeyong that I’d be outside working security detail the whole time.” Before Yangyang can ask _who exactly is on security detail if not Doyoung_ , the royal advisor impatiently taps on the steering wheel. “Are you coming, or not?”

Yangyang wastes no time sliding into the passenger seat of Doyoung’s car, fastening his seatbelt. “Do you have the address?”

“Yup,” Doyoung says, popping the _p_ while he drives away from the venue. “It looks like _Johnny’s_ keeping Jeno at one of his beach condos.” Yangyang snorts at the way Doyoung’s tone turns sour at the mention of Johnny. 

“ _One_ of his condos?” Yangyang mutters, “Does he have multiple?”

“Yeah,” Doyoung sniffs distastefully. “Just to, and I quote, ‘flex.’”

The conversation dies out after this, and Yangyang takes the liberty to look out of the window, watching the various sights of the kingdom whizz by. They’re nearing the outskirts of the city, and Yangyang can vaguely make out the coastline in the distance. 

Doyoung turns on his blinker, turning onto a small backroad that leads to the beach. It’s quiet, the only sound coming from the faint clicks of the signal. 

Eyeing the faint outline where the ocean meets the beach, he can’t help but worry over where Jeno is. Did Johnny hurt him? Is he safe? Yangyang fidgets, bouncing his leg in the seat. The silence isn’t doing anything to help, and now all he can think about is whether or not they’ll find Jeno. Sighing, he leans forward, pressing around on Doyoung’s high-tech dashboard. “Do you have an aux cord?”

“An aux cord?” Doyoung scoffs, oblivious to Yangyang’s nervous energy. “I have Bluetooth; just connect your phone to it.”

“Okay,” Yangyang says quietly, pressing a couple buttons to link his phone up. 

Doyoung takes note of Yangyang’s sudden mood shift, tentatively wondering if he should press or not. “Hey,” he says softly. “We’ll find him.” 

“I know.” Yangyang bites his lip, not knowing what else to say. Silently, he continues setting up his phone to the car’s bluetooth. “I just hope he’s safe.” He adds on, at Doyoung’s inquisitive hum. 

“He is.” Doyoung chances a glance at Yangyang, whose eyes are still trained on his phone. “Johnny may be insane, committing treason, and an asshole, but he wouldn’t hurt Jeno.” He regrets it immediately as he says it, watching as Yangyang looks even more nervous from the corner of his eye. 

“That just made me feel worse,” Yangyang groans, “How did Johnny even get hired?”

“I’m pretty sure he did something illegal-- but when is he not?” The car swerves slightly as Doyoung almost runs off the side of the road. “Maybe we should change the topic,” he says tightly, the thought of Johnny filling him with an inexplicable rage. “Turn on some music.”

Yangyang nods, subtly tightening his seatbelt-- just in case. Scrolling through his Spotify he presses shuffle on one of his playlists. 

_Yeah, young money! Nicki Minaj, Jussstinnnnnnn!_

“Is that,” Doyoung inhales sharply. “Justin Beiber?”

“Yeah,” Yangyang says, as if it’s normal to listen to Justin Beiber, bopping his head to the beat. “It’s catchy.”

_Alll I neeeeed, is a beauty and a beeeat who can make my life compleeeete._

Yangyang hums to the melody, thinking about a certain tailor.

“Change it.” Doyoung says through gritted teeth. “Before I turn this car around.”

“Fine,” Yangyang rolls his eyes, tapping on another playlist. 

Ariana Grande plays instead, singing about how she has 7 rings. Doyoung presses a little harder on the accelerator, a little more eager to get to their destination. 

In the distance, a series of condos get closer and closer, littered along the vast expanse of the coast. The GPS says that there’s only 5 minutes left to the drive, and Yangyang looks out of the window.

_We’ll find you_ , he promises. _Just wait a little longer_.

_━━━━━━━━━_

Mark’s plan, as it turns out, was to simply wriggle the doorknobs until the locks give out. 

Of course, this fails terribly. 

“Will you cut it out?” Jaemin snaps, hearing Mark’s futile attempts to open the door. He immediately winces at the harshness of his tone. “I’m sorry- I’m just...”

“Stressed?” Mark finishes. The rattling of the lock stops. “I’m sorry, I guess I’m just getting desperate.”

“Me too” Jaemin agrees. “When this is over, we should go on a vacation.”

“We?”

Jaemin swallows. “Yeah,” he says softly. “Just you and me.”

Jaemin’s words hang in the air, and he holds his breath, waiting for the other’s reaction. Although he’s simply suggesting a vacation, the implication of it means _more_ , and he knows that Mark knows it. 

“You and me.” Mark echoes back, like a promise. 

Jaemin refuses to acknowledge the blush on his cheeks, instead squinting at the keyhole of the door. It’s actually quite simple, with a small hole in the middle that can be opened with a thin metal wire. “If only I had a bobby pin,” Jaemin sighs, “It would be so easy to pick the lock to this door.”

“A bobby pin?” Mark asks, and Jaemin can see him perk up in interest. “Why would you need that?”

“Look at the keyhole,” Jaemin answers simply. “All you need is something small to pop the lock open.”

“Holy shit.”

Jaemin furrows a brow at how enlightened Mark sounds. “Did you just figure out how locks work?” He teases.

“No, no-” Mark says, excitement clear in his voice. “I have a bobby pin!”

“You do?” Jaemin rushes towards the wall, knocking on it insistently. “Why?”

“I had some in my pocket, just in case Jeno’s wig fell out of place,” Mark explains, shuffling around. Faintly, Jaemin makes out something fiddling with the lock on Mark’s side. 

A bloom of hope swells up inside his chest. He holds his breath, listening as Mark attempts to open the lock. 

It goes silent, and that swell of hope is almost crushed, until a faint _pop!_ can be heard from the other room, followed by a door opening and closing. 

“Holy shit,” Jaemin says eloquently, when Mark rushes out of his room, immediately moving to unlock the door to Jaemin’s room.

The door opens, and for a moment Jaemin becomes overwhelmed with emotion, at the sight of seeing someone familiar for the first time.

Mark stands there, harried looking but still the same person he’d known. His hair is adorably ruffled, as with his clothes, but he wears an enthusiastic smile, lighting up like a puppy as he registers Jaemin in front of him.

A million emotions whirl through Jaemin, but the most important one being relief. Relief that he’s free, relief that the door has finally been opened, and relief that he’s _finally_ seeing Mark, after all this time. 

Without thinking he barrels forward, tugging Mark into a fierce hug, arms encircling the other’s waist and holding him close, as if he would fly away. 

Jaemin barely registers the way Mark’s hand comes up to intertwine with his, too caught up in his own emotions. “I know,” he chokes up, “That we’ve been together for the past couple days- but seeing you in person...” He trails off, leaning back to study Mark’s features, committing each detail to memory.

“It’s different, isn’t it?” Mark breathes out, rubbing his thumb against his. The way Mark looks at him brings back the familiar butterflies in his stomach, and Jaemin never wants them to stop. 

Jaemin nods in lieu of an answer. 

Mark makes no move to separate, and neither does Jaemin. It’s not the best time, what with the inevitable doom of the kingdom running hot. But, for a moment it’s just _Jaemin and Mark_ , no added titles. 

Mark squeezes their intertwined hands together, smiling secretly to himself. The gentle slope of his mouth curls upward, and Jaemin wants to know what they would feel like against his.

He gives into that desire. 

Surging forward, he connects their lips in a sweet kiss, smiling when Mark immediately melts into it, hand coming up to clutch at his waist.

The kiss says all too much and not enough; it’s a product from years of two-sided yearning, a desire shared between the two that had never been explored, but it also raises questions to be addressed later. 

“As much as I’d like to stay,” Jaemin gasps, pulling back for air. “We need to go before Johnny fucks up the kingdom.” Pressing one last kiss onto Mark’s cheek he turns, running out to where he knows Johnny’s spare car is. 

Raising a hand, Mark touches his lips, shell-shocked that _that_ had just happened. Snapping out of it at Jaemin’s insistent yell he races towards the car, accepting the car keys handed out to him.

“Buckle in, your highness,” he quips, blushing at the way Jaemin fondly laughs, doing as he’s told. “We have a wedding to crash.”

_━━━━━━━━━_

“Where are you?” Renjun hisses into his phone, “The wedding is starting in five minutes!” 

_“Um,”_ Yangyang says vaguely. _“I’ll get there”_

_“Who is that?”_ Another voice says from Yangyang’s end of the call. _“Hang up, we’re 1 minute away.”_

“Is that-” Renjun pinches the bridge of his nose, barely bumping into the lady sitting next to him. “Is that _Doyoung_? Are you really ditching the royal wedding to shack up with the advisor?”

_“No!”_ Yangyang denies vehemently, and Renjun can hear the disgust through the phone. _“Just, I’ve gotta go. Trust me Renjun.”_

“Okay,” Renjun says uncertainly, not trusting him at all. “But if you-”

Yup. That was the dial tone. 

Groaning in annoyance Renjun tucks his phone away, just as Pachelbel’s Canon in D starts playing, signalling the start of the wedding. To be honest, it was quite rushed, and the decorations were obviously catered towards the original couple’s tastes, evident in the way the event is dripping in red and white accents. 

The king stands at the front with the altar. His suit is probably one of the most grand he’s seen, elaborate white suit-pieces all embroidered with gold silk; he makes a mental note to ask where exactly the royal family commissions their clothing. 

Renjun pities the king, as he takes in the harrowed lines of his face, and the way he blankly stares off to the side, very obviously deep in grief. No one should be forced into something like this, especially after the death of a loved one. Alas, Renjun also understands the importance of this wedding, and how the fate of the kingdom relies on it. 

The music continues, the boring and repetitive melody of the piece fitting for the way Renjun feels.

The preacher stands impatiently with the king, and Renjun belatedly realizes that the other participant in the marriage is nowhere to be seen. 

The crowd gets antsy, whispering amongst itself as to what the hold up was. 

With perfect timing, Johnny strolls down the aisle, flanked by two seemingly teenagers. _Late? To your own wedding?_ He suppresses an eyeroll. 

While they situate themselves, Renjun subtly checks his phone, just in case Yangyang has texted.

Nothing.

_━━━━━━━━━_

“Are you ready?” Doyoung asks Yangyang, parking in front of the small beach house. 

Yangyang nods, lips pressing into a determined line. “I’m ready.”

Together, they approach the front of the house. Yangyang wiggles the doorknob. “It’s locked,” He frowns. “Do you know how to-”

Wordlessly, Doyoung steps forward, leaning in to study the doorknob. For a moment Yangyang thinks he’s about to do something cool, like pull out a lock picking kit. 

Instead, the black-haired man reels back a fist, cleanly punching the lock open, with some sort of force Yangyang wasn’t aware humans were capable of. 

Satisfied, Doyoung steps back, brushing off his hands. “There.”

Yangyang stands there, mouth open like a fish out of water. 

“What?” Doyoung asks, as if he didn’t just showcase a herculean type of strength. “I had a lot of pent up anger, okay?”

Yangyang makes a mental note to never get on Doyoung’s bad side.

_“-Hello?”_ A voice asks from inside the house, one that Yangyang could recognize anywhere. 

“You go,” Doyoung says knowingly, watching the way Yangyang perks up. “I’ll wait out here.”

Without hesitation Yangyang barrels through the opened door. “Jeno?” He calls out, rushing around the house.

“ _I’m in here!_ ” Jeno calls back, knocking on the bedroom door. 

Following the source of the noise, Yangyang approaches the door, grabbing onto the doorknob. Luckily, the lock is simple; one on the outside that merely requires a push of a button. Yangyang easily undoes it, thrusting the door open. 

It opens, revealing Jaemin, or should he say- Jeno. 

And once again, Yangyang is absolutely floored at the sight of the other. Jeno’s black hair suits him much better than the pink, bringing out his well-defined features. He also looks a little worse for wear, and Yangyang’s heart clenches at the lines of stress that marr his face.

“Yangyang?” The other says in disbelief. He stands uncertainly at the doorway, unsure how to react. It doesn’t help that Yangyang falls silent, still processing the fact that Jeno is _here_ , and that he’s _safe_. 

Jeno shuffles around nervously, and Yangyang finally realizes that he should probably say something. “Hi.” He says dumbly. 

“Hi?” Jeno answers, more of a question. He takes Yangyang’s silence as some sort of indication of anger, and he puffs up desperately, ready to explain everything. “I know you probably don’t want to see me, but I have to try and tell you anyways-”

“I know everything.” Yangyang explains, backtracking when Jeno tilts his head. “Well not everything-- but I kinda got the gist of it. Just- know that I know that you’re not in the wrong. I never thought that” He ends firmly, looking Jeno in the eye. 

“Really?” Jeno asks, “Even when I was ousted for impersonating the crown prince?”

“You had your reasons,” Yangyang says dismissively, smiling at the way Jeno snorts at his eagerness. “I couldn’t give up on you like that.” he adds on seriously.

“Neither could I.” Jeno admits, smiling at the other. 

Taking this as a greenlight, Yangyang steps forward, tentatively reaching out to grasp Jeno’s hands between his. “Did you-” Yangyang gasps feeling a hard metal around Jeno’s finger. “Did you keep this?”

“Oh,” Jenos eyes widen, and he moves to take the ring off. “I’m sorry, I forgot I had it on-”

Yangyang stops him midway, gently adjusting the ring back to where it was. “It’s okay,” looking down, he studies the way it fits on Jeno’s hand. “It looks good on you.”

“It does?”

“Yeah.” Yangyang looks at him with a lovesick glint in his eyes, and it feels like time has stopped. 

Yangyang can vaguely make out the sound of waves crashing on the shore in the background, and the setting sun casts a faint glow in the room. Jeno fiddles with their fingers, content in standing there with him. 

Once more he studies Jeno’s features, eyes trailing downwards to his lips. He reaches a hand up, cupping the others cheek. “Can I,” he starts tentatively, watching the way Jeno’s adam's apple bobs as he swallows nervously. “Can I kiss you?”

Jeno nods, leaning forward to meet Yangyang, connecting their lips. Yangyang sighs into it, allowing himself a moment of familiarity before the impending _shitshow_ about to take place. 

A hand slides around his waist, squeezing gently. Yangyang groans, deepening the kiss, sliding his hands into Jeno’s hair, tugging gently-

“Wow,” Doyoung backtracks out of the room, slapping a hand over his eyes. “I did not need to see that.”

Sheepishly Jeno pulls back, offering Doyoung a tentative wave over Yangyang’s shoulder. “Hey?” Yangyang catches his breath, eyes glazed over. 

“Hey.” Doyoung nods in acknowledgement, “Are you guys done with that?” he gestures vaguely at the two, and Jeno registers the fact that Yangyang’s hand is still in his hair. “We have places to be,” and with that he spins on his heel, striding out of the beach house.

Jeno and Yangyang share a look, equal parts horrified and amused at the fact that Doyoung had just caught them kissing. 

Ignoring the blush on his cheeks Yangyang tugs Jeno out, leading him to Doyoung’s idling car. “Come in,” he says, letting Jeno get in first. “We have a royal advisor to expose.”

_━━━━━━━━━_

“Dearly beloved,” the pastor, Kun, announces in a tone too enthusiastic to be genuine. “We are gathered here today to celebrate the holy matrimony of….”

Johnny smiles triumphantly, giddy at the prospect that he’s finally reached the finish line, the trophy a mere 10 feet away. Behind him stand Chenle and Jisung, enthralled by the grandness of the royal wedding.

Across from him, Taeyong purses his lips, wanting to be anywhere but here. 

“Do you, Johnny Seo, take Lee Taeyong to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

Johnny adopts a cheshire-grin. “I do.”

Kun nods, turning towards the King. “And do you, Lee Taeyong take Johnny Seo to be your lawfully wedded husband.”

Taeyong hesitates, opening and closing his mouth. “I-”

Johnny smiles threateningly, nodding at the king to make him go faster.

For a moment Taeyong considers it, looking up and down the aisle, and then back at the pastor. Johnny knows he’s won with the way the king adopts a defeated air.“I d-”

_“Stop the wedding!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow! we have 1 more chapter + an epilogue left! how did u like these back-to-back dramaticized prison breakouts?  
> i also hope beauty and a beat is stuck in your head after reading this <3
> 
> [my twt](https://twitter.com/lumheis)


	6. where your heart belongs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> jaemin crashes a wedding, and the fallout

“Stop the wedding!”

All attention snaps towards the source of the disruption, eager to see who had just come in. 

Taeyong gasps, taking in the sight of his very alive son, standing at the end of the aisle, panting slightly from where he’d run in. Johnny’s eyes widen in horror, and Chenle and Jisung subtly scoot away, ready to make a run for it. 

It’s so silent that you could hear a pin drop, as everyone takes in the sight of the presumably dead crown prince crashing the royal wedding. 

Taking the moment of shock as an opportunity to advance, Jaemin straightens up, strolling down the aisle like a final boss in a videogame would. All eyes track his every movement, waiting with bated breath as to see what would happen next. 

Jaemin takes it in stride, making no move to speak as he stalks down the aisle, a dangerous glare trained on the royal advisor next to his father. The years of royal training is showing, with the way his presence commands attention.

“Jaemin?” Taeyong breaks the silence, stepping down from the altar to meet his son. “Is that you?” He asks tentatively, but his tone betrays his hope. 

Jaemin nods, still glaring down Johnny. Taeyong sags in relief, but makes no move to greet him-- still hesitant. He shakes his head in bewilderment. “I thought you were-”

“Dead?” He finishes for his father, smirking when Johnny pales even more, eyes darting around for an escape. “That’s just what he-” Jaemin raises a finger dramatically, pointing it straight at Johnny, “Wanted you to think!” 

Taeyong snaps his head towards the advisor, shooting him a look that demands he explain himself. 

“What?” Johnny stutters out, “Ridiculous!” Stepping back, he points an equally accusing finger at Jaemin. “That must be the imposter!”

“I’m not,” Jaemin declares, pointing up to his face where Jeno’s mole would have been, skin unmarked. “See?” A gasp is heard from the crowd, and Johnny balks. 

That’s enough proof for Taeyong, who rushes forward to pull his son into a tight hug. “It is you!”

“It is,” Jaemin smiles gently, embracing his father. 

“What happened?”

“I’ll explain later,” Jaemin says, giving Taeyong one last reassuring squeeze before pulling back. Hardening his features he looks at Johnny, who looks ready to make a run for it. “For now, we need _him_ arrested!”

Johnny smiles nervously. “I can explain-” He placates, placing his hands in front of him. For a moment everyone waits, ready to see what the royal advisor has to say about himself-

Instead, he lunges away from the altar, sprinting down the aisle in a desperate escape attempt. 

━━━━━━━━━

Pulling over to the entrance of the venue, Doyoung slams on the break. “ _Go, go!_ ” He bites out, wheezing from the whiplash of stopping the car too fast. “ _I’ll be right behind you!_ ”

Yangyang wastes no time heaving open the car door, tugging Jeno out. Together they run hand-in-hand to the entrance, their only plan being to cause a disturbance. 

The actual wedding is taking place in the royal garden, separated by the various winding paths of flowers. Yangyang does his best to navigate through it, the sound of the wedding music getting closer and closer as he nears the event.

They’re so close, and Yangyang follows a sign that points guests directly towards where the aisle will be.

“ _Stop the wedding!_ ” A voice yells from around the corner, and Yangyang stops dead in his tracks, wincing when Jeno bumps into him from behind.

“What are you doing?” Jeno hisses out, “We have to go-”

“Wait,” Yangyang says insistently, pulling Jeno around the corner with him. “Look.”

Squinting, Jeno sees the long wedding aisle, and he can barely make out Taeyong and Johnny’s silhouettes in front of the altar. For a moment he thinks he’s too late, until he follows Yangyang’s gaze, landing on the person standing in the middle of the aisle.

It’s Jaemin. 

Jeno gasps in awe, watching as Jaemin confidently reveals himself to his audience. 

The prince’s presence is encapsulating, and Jeno can’t look away. Yangyang is in a similar state, with the way he stares wide-eyed when Jaemin dramatically exposes Johnny.

Doyoung runs around the corner, panting from exertion. “Are we late?” 

“No,” Jeno shakes his head, motioning towards where Jaemin stands. “I think he beat us to it.”

“Oh my goodness,” Doyoung breathes out, awed. He falls silent, before doing a double take, looking a couple feet past Jeno and Yangyang. “ _Mark_? Is that you?”

Mark? Jeno jumps, looking over his shoulder to see the royal tutor’s familiar face, standing just a couple of feet away from them.

Mark, who didn’t notice them due to also being engrossed in the exchange, looks over, and then looks over again, lighting up in excitement. 

“Doyoung? Jeno?” He asks in disbelief, walking towards them. “You’re-” He stops in front of Jeno, giving him a once-over. “You’re okay!”

“I am.” Jeno confirms, offering Mark a fistbump. It’s refreshing seeing Mark again, even after his sudden departure. Dropping Yangyang’s hand, he hugs him, laughing when the other gets caught off guard. 

“I’m sorry about everything that’s happened,” Mark says apologetically, pulling back. “I didn’t think it through when I left you all by yourself at the castle.”

“It’s alright-” Jeno reassures, motioning towards where Yangyang is looking at the two with thinly veiled jealousy. “I had Yangyang with me.”

Yangyang perks up, bouncing towards the two, slipping his hand back into Jeno’s. “He did,” he nods sunnily, although Jeno can see the warning glance he sends towards Mark.

“Well,” Mark notes, thoroughly amused, “I’m glad that you two had each other,” he finishes, pointedly looking down at Jeno and Yangyang’s linked hands.

Jeno blushes, and he opens his mouth, ready to retort-

“ _Oh shit-_ ” Doyoung curses, still watching Jaemin’s _Speak Now_ moment. All eyes focus on where Doyoung is pointing, where Johnny runs straight down the aisle, directly towards where they stand. 

“Is he trying to escape?” Jeno panics, watching as Johnny sprints towards them like a marathon runner. 

“I think so-”

“Oh god-”

Johnny is getting closer and closer, chased by a plethora of castle guards, and Jeno’s mind tells him to _move_ , to catch him before he makes an escape-

Doyoung moves first, arms outstretched as he lunges towards the ex-royal advisor, tackling him with a seemingly otherworldly force. Johnny doesn’t see it coming, hyper fixated on his escape, and he tumbles down helplessly, pinned down by an angry Doyoung. 

Once again, Yangyang is shocked and slightly terrified by the advisor. 

“Someone,” Doyoung grunts out, grabbing Johnny’s struggling wrists, “Help me!”

The castle guards chasing Johnny catch up, and Yangyang moves to help Doyoung up, while Johnny gets pulled up, properly restrained. 

Jaemin and Taeyong catch up moments later, lighting up when they see the other four. 

“Doyoung!” Taeyong pulls his advisor into a hug, while Jaemin frets over Mark. Doyoung stands stiffly, giving the king a reassuring pat of the back. “You’re late!”

“Sorry,” Doyoung says, “I had something to pick up,” he finishes, sending a meaningful look towards where Jeno and Yangyang stand. 

“Your highness,” Jeno greets awkwardly, still remembering his dismayed look from a couple nights ago. “I’m sorry about the other day-”

“I’m sure there’s an explanation,” Taeyong reassures, narrowing his eyes at his other royal advisor. “Especially if Johnny was involved.”

“I would’ve gotten away with it,” Johnny laughs maniacally, still struggling. “-If it weren’t for these meddling kids!”

“Wow,” Yangyang looks equal parts disgusted and amused. “Did he just quote _Scooby-Doo?_ ”

“I think he did.”

“Come with me,” Taeyong motions towards the guards holding Johnny. “We have a lot to hear from him.” Doyoung follows, telling Jeno and Yangyang to stay back.

━━━━━━━━━

Meanwhile, another guard, Jungwoo, stops in front of Jaemin. He has Chenle and Jisung in an iron grip, and they hang their heads sadly.

“I found these two trying to hop over the fence,” Jungwoo accuses, holding the other two’s collars like a mother cat would hold it’s kittens. “What do you want me to do with them?”

Jaemin bites his lip. To be honest, Chenle and Jisung were quite harmless without the direction of Johnny, and they’d only participated to get money- as a last resort. 

He watches as Chenle’s eyes well up with tears, and Jisung trembles in fear, eyes trained on the stone paths of the castle garden. 

Jaemin makes a decision, inhaling deeply. “Let them go.”

“Let them go?” Mark echoes back, “They kidnapped us!”

“Yeah,” Jaemin waves him off, “But they only were doing it because Johny told them to. Plus, they just needed money...”

Mark falls silent, looking at the two in pity. 

“Really?” Jisung asks hopefully-- puppy eyes and all, and how can Jaemin say no to that?

“We Stockholm Syndromed him!” Chenle jokes, but his voice wavers with emotion, underlying with gratitude. 

“Not really,” Jaemin sends them a warning glance, “Jungwoo, take them to the castle first,” He laughs at the way they both pale. “-Just to enroll you two into a school.”

“Oh,” Jisung nods in approval, as if he had a choice. “That’s fair.”

“I’ve always wanted to learn how to do Calculus,” Chenle thinks aloud, allowing himself to get steered away by Jungwoo.

Jaemin smiles fondly, watching as the two disappear. 

“That was very kind of you,” Mark observes. “A little surprising, but kind.”

“It surprised me too,” Jaemin agrees, smiling to himself. “But they grew on me.”

━━━━━━━━━

A familiar laugh comes from a couple feet away, and Jaemin belatedly realizes that Jeno is here. “Jeno?” He asks hopefully, lighting up when the other turns, sending him a radiant smile. “It’s been so long!” Excitedly, he pulls him into a hug. 

Jeno returns the hug, smiling fondly at the other. “It’s been a week.”

“It felt like a year.” Jaemin snorts, studying the other. “You still look exactly like me.”

The events of the day have finally caught up to them, and now all Jaemin wants to do is catch up with his friend. 

“Woah,” Yangyang breathes out, “You two look-”

“Exactly the same?” They finish in tandem, laughing when Yangyang looks even more creeped out. 

“We’ll leave you to catch up,” Mark interrupts, tugging on Yangyang’s sleeve.

“We are?” Yangyang backtracks at Mark’s look. “Oh yeah- we are!” Jaemin raises a brow when Yangyang presses a kiss to Jeno’s cheek. Interesting. 

Mark leaves with Yangyang in tow. 

The sun is starting to set, and the blue sky is painted with streaks of pink and orange. The scattered wedding arrangements look different when it’s deserted, and Jaemin sits down on a bench, motioning for Jeno to follow. 

It’s just the two of them now, and even though it’s been a week since their first meeting, it already feels like they’ve known each other for ages.

“So,” Jaemin starts curiously, “Mark told me you had to act like me?” 

“I did,” Jeno confirms, smiling when he thinks back to those two days he’d spent as Jaemin. “It was awful. I don’t know how you do it.”

Jaemin snorts, playfully nudging Jeno’s shoulder. “It’s not that bad.”

“Mark took 2 hours to teach me how to stand properly.” Jeno bemoans, spine already aching thinking back. “And then 1 more hour to show me how to _walk_ properly.”

“Maybe it is that bad,” Jaemin concedes, thinking about how hard it would be for people to learn habits he’d been conditioned into doing. “But it looks like you got something out of it,” he waggles his eyebrows suggestively, making a kissy face at Jeno. “I saw the way Yangyang looked at you. Lee Jeno, did you steal away my fiance?”

“I didn’t steal him,” Jeno flushes a bright red. “Technically I was just playing my role, it’s not my fault that I charmed him.”

“It looks like he charmed you too,” Jaemin supplies, smiling when Jeno hums in agreement. Truthfully he was glad that Jeno and Yangyang had hit it off, because it would’ve been an awkward conversation afterwards, especially since he still had things to sort out with Mark. Not to mention, Jeno seemed truly happy with the other. “What did you two do?”

“We danced.” Jeno says simply.

“You-” Jaemin blinks owlishly. How did they not figure out that it was Jeno earlier, when Jaemin’s never danced in his life. “Danced?”

“Yeah, before Johnny did the whole-” Jeno freezes, thinking back to his confrontation. “-Thing,” he finishes awkwardly, not wanting to elaborate on that night. 

Jaemin winces. Johnny was not a topic he wanted to discuss. Jeno seems to think the same way, as he falls silent. 

“I met Donghyuck,” Jaemin offers, to change the subject. Something fond bubbles up inside of him when he thinks about Jeno’s eccentric work-mate. 

“Did you?” Jeno asks excitedly, at the mention of his best friend. “I hope he didn't give you too much trouble.”

“Well-” Jaemin hums, “He did think I was you for a solid 15 minutes.”

“That sounds like him.”

“He also taught me how to sew.” Jaemin supplies, laughing when Jeno’s eyes widen in horror. “It wasn’t _that_ bad.”

“You were awful, weren’t you?” Jeno teases, watching as Jaemin scoffs indignantly.

“I learned a lot though,” Jaemin kicks at the ground, watching as a pebble flies off of his foot. He thinks back to the dimly lit workspace, and the fact that his own family commissioned directly from Jeno’s horrible boss. “Your life is hard.”

“It is,” Jeno agrees. “Yours is too, but in a different way.”

“I also got to talk with your boss,” Jaemin scrunches his nose in disgust. “I can guarantee that we won’t be commissioning from him anymore.”

“Wait, you can’t-” Jeno says in alarm, “I still have to repay my debt.”

“Jeno, I’m literally the prince.” Jaemin deadpans. “You also just helped stop Johnny’s elaborate conspiracy. Consider your debt paid.”

Jeno bites his lip, still hesitant. “What about Donghyuck? He has a bunch of siblings to support-”

“We can hire him as a personal castle tailor,” Jaemin says easily, “We’re going to need suits after breaking our partnership.” 

Jeno falls uncharaacteristically silent, looking down at his hands. “You would do that for me?” He asks, voice cracking. It’s then that Jaemin realizes that the other is holding back tears.

“I would.” He says firmly, placing his hand over Jeno’s, squeezing it reassuringly. “Anything for a friend.”

Overcome with emotion, Jeno pulls Jaemin in for what’s probably his 100th hug today, hoping that his thankfulness translates to the prince. “Thank you.”

Returning the hug, Jaemin allows himself a moment to get lost in the moment, and prays that this friendship will be one that lasts.

━━━━━━━━━

Back at the castle, Mark paces around the halls, waiting for Jaemin to come back.

These past couple of days have been harrowing. Looking back, Mark thinks about how through it all, Jaemin was a constant for him. From spending hours agonizing over the other's whereabouts, to finally finding him-- albeit under unsavory circumstances--, and finally escaping with the other.

And that rushed moment after the escape-- their first kiss, and how he wants more. The feelings had always been there, lingering between the two of them like a dam, ready to burst at any time. It only took the almost-upheaval of the monarchy for Mark to decide to do something about it.

He only hopes Jaemin feels the same.

Familiar footsteps echo down the hall, and Mark snaps his head towards the corridor just in time to see Jaemin rounding a corner. Jaemin looks happier than he ever has, a sight that makes Mark repress the butterflies in his stomach.

Jaemin spots Mark, sending him _that_ secret smile, one that Mark knows is reserved for him. "Hey."

"Hey," Mark stutters out, suddenly very nervous. "Can we talk?"

Jaemin nods in understanding, flashing him a knowing smile. "Sure," waving a hand, he motions Mark to follow him into his room.

Settling down on his bed, Jaemin pats the space next to him. Mark slides in, close enough so that their thighs press together, touch burning.

"What's up?" Jaemin asks, allowing Mark time to reel in his thoughts.

"I've been thinking about the future lately," Mark says into the comfortable silence. "More importantly, about our future." He darts a tongue out to wet his lips, ignoring Jaemin's interested hum. "And how I- I want one for us."

"What are you saying?" Jaemin prods, though it seems like he already knows the answer, with the way he grasps Mark's hand like a lifeline.

Mark takes in a deep breath.

Jaemin. Jaemin means everything to him, probably even more. Before, he thought that this meant he should push away his feelings; Jaemin's supposed to lead the kingdom, and he can't do that with a mere tutor by his side.

But now, when he knows how quickly the one he loves can be taken away, Mark wants nothing more than to chase after the future he's dreamed for them;. the one where they both stand at each other's sides.

And now, he decides that that future is worth it.

"I'm in love with you." Mark confesses into the quiet air, rubbing Jaemin's thumb unconsciously.

Jaemin stays silent for too long, and Mark thinks he's fucked it up, and quickly hatches a plan that involves quitting, moving out into a cottage in the woods, and never returning to society ever again.

Before he can make that happen, a hand gently grabs his downturned chin, raising it so that he makes eye contact with the other in front of him and-

Jaemin's there. And he's watching Mark with eyes that can only be described as tender, as he shoots the other a smile that's filled with a mixture of hope, relief, and affection.

"I'm in love with you too," Jaemin confesses back, biting his lip to hold back a giddy smile. "I always have been."

"So have I," Mark admits honestly, entranced by the way a flush creeps across the apples of the prince's cheeks. "I've just been afraid to say it."

"Me too," Jaemin's hand makes its way up Mark's chin, instead cupping his cheek. "But after this past week, when every part of our future hung in the balance, all I could think of-"

"Was how much I'd regret not telling you how I truly felt." Mark finishes. He tightens his grip on the other's free hand, desperately hoping his actions will say everything he's been meaning to say.

Jaemin surges forward, connecting their lips in their second kiss today.

This time, there's no impending doom to the kingdom, royal advisors to expose, or weddings to crash. Now, it's just Mark and Jaemin, sharing a moment that's been long overdue.

It's everything Mark's ever dreamed of, possibly even better now that it's a reality. The prince's lips are soft against his own, moving together with his in a perfect tandem. Mark presses closer, wrapping a hand around the other's waist. Jaemin's hand slides from his cheek to the back of his neck, pulling him closer in.

Mark pulls back for air, leaning. In so that their foreheads are pressed together. "So what does this mean for us?" He murmurs, feeling the way Jaemin's breath ghosts along his.

"It's up to us," Jaemin says firmly, leaning in for another kiss.

━━━━━━━━━

After the wedding, the events that follow tie up every loose end that had been frayed in the process of Johnny’s evil plot.

Johnny gets, as expected, arrested, and the Neo Kingdom spends two weeks gathering the enormous load of evidence piled against the ex-royal advisor. The funds and gold mine locations he had been withholding from the kingdom comes to light, and they're quickly seized, starting the kingdom's slow but steady economic recovery.

King Taeyong decides to promote Doyoung as his sole royal advisor, and spends his days ruling the kingdom, with Doyoung by his side.

Mark continues tutoring, this time for his newest students; Chenle and Jisung.

Jaemin continues living his life as a prince, making more public appearances, all with his best friend and lover by his side. He also looks into expanding the Neo Kingdom's exports, to avoid another economic recession as bad as the one Johnny had brought upon them.

After being de-commisioned by the royal family, _Yuta's Suit Emporium_ goes out of business, and the castle gains a new hire-- a royal tailor by the name of Donghyuck.

Renjun sticks around for a bit as well, enamoured by said royal tailor.

King Yangyang stays for the two weeks, enjoying his time with his tentative love interest.

And last but not least, with his debt freshly paid, Jeno stands teary eyed in front of his ride, eagerly awaiting his next adventure.

━━━━━━━━━

A cool breeze drifts through the wind, tickling the back of Jeno's neck. Loading the last of his bags into the backseat of the car he gently closes the door, brushing his hands off. Wistfully, he looks back at the city, and the boarded down place he'd once worked at.

A weight barrels into him, engulfing him in a bear-hug. "I'm going to miss you so much," Donghyuck wails, clutching onto Jeno.

"You make it sound like I'm dead," Jeno laughs, reciprocating the hug just as tightly. "I can still text you."

"It's not the same," Donghyuck sniffles. "Who's going to keep me company?"

"You have an entire castle entourage with you." Jeno deadpans, pinching Donghyuck's side.

Donghyuck yelps, punching Jeno lightly. "I'll miss you" he says softly, voice uncharacteristically soft.

"I will too," Jeno smiles sadly. The thought of leaving his best friend after so long makes him tear up, and he pushes it down, not wanting their last interaction to be with tears.

Someone taps Donghyuck on the shoulder, smiling when he turns back.

"It's my turn now," Jaemin says playfully, waggling a finger in front of Donghyuck's face. "Jeno has a rather large send-off party."

Donghyuck rolls his eyes. "You may be the most powerful person in the kingdom, but I'm only stepping aside because I want to."

"Sure," Jaemin acquiesces, stepping aside to let Donghyuck brush past him, where he immediately moves towards Renjun's side.

"That's new," Jeno observes, watching when Donghyuck and Renjun immediately start bickering.

"It is," Jaemin hums, turning his attention back to the other. "I know everyone's said this, but I'll miss you too."

Jeno has heard these words a million times, but coming from Jaemin, he finds himself a little more emotional at the fact. Meeting Jaemin has been one of the best things to have happened, both for him and Jaemin. 

“I’ll miss you too,” Jeno pulls Jaemin into a hug, smiling when Jaemin melts into it, cuddling into his shoulder. “Stay in touch?”

“Always,” Jaemin promises. He slyly turns his gaze past Jeno’s head, smirking when he sees the person standing behind him. “I’ll see you later,” he says knowingly, sliding out of Jeno’s hold. “Someone else is waiting for you.”

Jeno tilts his head, turning around to see who Jaemin was looking at. 

Yangyang stands off to the side, quickly looking away as if he wasn’t watching Jaemin and Jeno’s interaction. 

Jeno giggles, waving Yangyang over. The other approaches hesitantly, and Jeno frowns, sending him a silent look of inquiry.

“Do you-” Yangyang asks uncertainly. “Do you have to go?”

Jeno’s heart drops at how torn the other sounds, and he moves closer, cupping the other’s cheek softly. “I do,” he confirms sadly. 

“I thought we had something good going,” Yangyang says softly, not meeting his eyes. 

“We do,” Jeno reassures, smiling when Yangyang sends him a shy glance. And honestly, he means it. He’s never felt a connection to someone as strong as he does to Yangyang. “But I just- I can’t stay. All my life, I’ve been tied down. Now that my debt is paid, thanks to Jaemin,” he sends the prince a grateful look. “I’m free to go wherever I want.”

“Where will you even go?”

“Everywhere!” Jeno says excitedly. “I want to see the world.”

Yangyang chews on his bottom lip. “I could come with you?” He offers, but he knows the effort is futile.

“You have an entire kingdom to look over,” Jeno shakes his head. “I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

“Then,” Yangyang shuffles around in his coat pocket, procuring a familiar box. “I hope you’ll take this.” He says hopefully, opening it to reveal the familiar engagement ring.

“Oh Yangyang,” Jeno gasps. “I couldn’t...”

“Please?” Yangyang asks hopefully. “It _was_ meant for you” 

Jeno’s resolve crumbles quickly. He can’t say no to the other, not when part of his heart does belong to Yangyang. He nods, allowing Yangyang to slide the ring on his finger, ignoring the way his heart flutters when Yangyang sends him a triumphant smile. “No promises?”

“I’ll take my chances,” Yangyang winks. Sliding a hand around his neck he pulls Jeno in for one last kiss; one that’s both a promise and a goodbye in itself. 

Jeno pulls back, sending everyone one last wave before he gets in his car, ready to see the world he's been dreaming of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aanddd that’s it for this story! there will be no more plot, and the last chapter will be a very brief epilogue, so i'll save my final words for that but i sincerely hope you enjoyed this chapter!  
> [twt](https://twitter.com/lumheis)


	7. epilogue

**_two years later..._ **

Jeno strikes his ending pose, catching his breath while he takes in the rapturous applause from the audience. Besides him, his dance crew moves to bow, and he follows, locking hands with his crewmates besides him. 

Letting go, he walks off stage, waving to the faceless people in the crowd. Usually his performances end in a hazy blur, but today, he’s struck with a definitive clarity. His mind is somehow clearer, and he can really take in the moments after a performance. A spotlight hits his hand, angled just right so that it hits the ring that lies on his index finger. 

It glints from the light, and Jeno takes a moment to study the way it seemingly points outwards. His mind wonders if it’s pointing towards the direction he knows Yangyang is. 

Truly, these two years have been nothing but everything Jeno had dreamed of: sightseeing, performing, and meeting new people. But as he looks into the crowd, he finds that the addicting exhilaration of performing has gone, replaced with a yearning for the one he’d met almost two years ago.

Sure, he’s sent and received texts and calls back and forth with the other, but no large amounts of applause could ever make up for the sound of Yangyang’s laughter. 

He’s seen almost the entire world at this point, but at each stop, there was always one place he’d wished to go to the most; a place with wide smiles and hidden touches, secret moments shared between the two, and a monarch with terrible dance-moves.

━━━━━━━━━

“I miss the days when I didn’t have to know what derivatives were,” Chenle whines, dropping his head down onto the table. 

“I agree,” Jisung sniffles sadly, looking down at his own textbook. “Can we go back to stealing things?”

“No,” Mark says tiredly, “For the 100th time, you cannot.”

“Give them a break,” Jaemin chides, strolling in. He presses a kiss to Mark’s head, ignoring the way their audience gags in disgust. “They’ve been working hard.”

“We have,” Chenle flashes Jaemin an angelic smile, and Mark scoffs at how quickly his demeanor changed. 

“Working hard?” Mark teases, “More like hardly working!”

“Take that back!” Chenle gasps, waving his paper around. “It’s almost done-”

The fond smile that makes its way onto Jaemin’s face comes unexpectedly, and he watches with interest as the two gang up on Mark.

Their days as thieves and Johnny’s coup seem like ages ago. Two years was a long time, and he’s not ashamed to say that Chenle and Jisung had grown on him, wriggling into his heart.

An incoming text message comes in, and Jaemin tunes out their bickering, lighting up when he sees the message is from Jeno. 

**jeno💙**

i’m coming back soon

OMG

how soon?

like.. in a week?

i have to stop by somewhere first before i come back

ahh! i’m so excited

i can’t wait to catch up w/ u!

mee too <3

Jaemin turns his attention back to the present, biting back a grin when he sees Mark unceremoniously shooing Chenle and Jisung out, eager to put an end to their tutoring session.

Bouncing up to Mark, Jaemin tugs on his hand, arms coming up to wrap loosely around his waist. “What’s got you so happy?” Mark raises an eyebrow, arms coming up to wrap around Jaemin’s shoulders.

“Jeno’s coming back,” Jaemin rushes out, a giddy smile blooming on his face. 

Mark can’t help but mirror the expression his lover holds. “He is?” 

“In one week,” Jaemin confirms, tapping patterns onto the material of Mark’s shirt. “But he said he had somewhere to go first.”

Mark laughs at the audible pout in his words. “It’s alright, you’ve already waited two years, one week is nothing.”

“This is going to be the longest week of my life!” Jaemin bemoans, dropping his head onto Mark’s shoulder.

“You can spend that week preparing for his arrival,” Mark suggests, patting the back of Jaemin’s shoulder comfortingly.

The prince takes this suggestion, immediately pulling away from the other to start planning. “Oh, there’s so much I have to catch him up on,” Jaemin frets, flitting around the room while he formulates Jeno’s welcome party. 

Mark watches fondly, once again awed by how much Jaemin cares for the other. “Yeah,” He smiles secretly to himself, feeling the small jewelry box tucked away in his suit pocket, waiting for the perfect moment. “A lot.”

━━━━━━━━━

The door opens, and Renjun pops a head in, with a knowing glint in his eye. “There’s someone here for you.” He doesn’t elaborate any more, stepping aside to let the visitor in. 

Yangyang looks up, tilting his head in confusion as to who could possibly be coming to see him--

_Oh._

Jeno stands at the doorway, and Yangyang finds himself _floored_. 

Time has treated Jeno kindly, and Yangyang notes with delight how the features of his face are more defined, and how the other seems to exude happiness. The familiar butterflies that Yangyang’s come to associate with Jeno come back at full force, and he can’t help the grin that slips onto his face.

“Hey?” Jeno offers a tentative wave, and Yangyang realizes he’s been silent for too long, gaping at the fact that Jeno was _here_ , and he’s _back_. 

“Hey,” he parrots back eloquently, still reeling from the fact that this was reality, and not some sort of realistic dream. 

Jeno shoots him a brilliant smile, one that’s still exactly the same as he remembers and Yangyang all but swoons. “I’m back.”

His brain finally catches up to reality, and Yangyang knocks over his chair in his haste to get up, barreling straight towards Jeno, who welcomes him with open arms. 

Jeno’s arms find their place on his waist, and Yangyang gingerly cups his cheek, taking a moment to study the other up close. Jeno laughs softly at Yangyang’s reverent expression, quirking up a brow. “Did you miss me?” He asks teasingly, biting his lip.

“I did,” Yangyang confirms, enamored by the other. There’s not enough words for Yangyang to explain just exactly how he feels in the moment, so he settles on surging forward, connecting their lips in a kiss, desperate to make up for lost time.

Yangyang allows himself to get lost in the moment, savouring the way Jeno’s lips feel against his own; just like he’s remembered. He smiles into it, thinking about how much he’s _missed_ the other. He commits this moment to his own memory, although he knows it’ll be one of many.

Jeno pulls back from the kiss, intertwining their fingers. “You waited?” 

“I did,” Yangyang smiles softly, feeling the cool metal of his engagement ring on Jeno’s finger. “It looks like you did too.”

━━━━━━━━━

Jeno drops by Jaemin’s bedroom, after a long day of festivities, all centered around his arrival. Needless to say, it was tiring. 

Jaemin looks up from where he’s working on some last minute plans for tomorrow, waving him over excitedly. “What are you doing here?” He asks teasingly, hiding his notebook when Jeno tries to sneak a peek.

“Just wanted to drop by,” Jeno says noncommittally, taking the empty seat next to Jaemin. “Maybe catch up a little?”

“I’d love to,” Jaemin closes his notebook, attention fully turned onto the other. 

Two years is a quite long time, and their adventures seem like nothing but a distant memory, one that Jaemin looks upon fondly. But as he sits across the other, he finds himself at a loss, not knowing where to start.

“It’s been a while.” Jeno notes into the silence. 

“It has,” Jaemin thinks about the new band of metal that curves around his finger, similar to the one Jeno wears. “We have so much to talk about.”

Jeno smiles. “We do.”

As Jaemin listens intently to Jeno’s vast stories about his travels, he can’t help but be grateful for their friendship. Once again, it seems like everything and nothing has changed, and the two friends gear up to start the next chapter of their lives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and they all lived happily ever after lol 
> 
> hi!! let me just *word dump* right now in my ending notes because wow… this monstrosity of a fic is finally over. fun fact, but i actually thought of this idea in june 2020, outlined+wrote half of it, and then abandoned it until nov-dec 2020, where i rewrote the first chapters and then finished it in around 2 weeks!
> 
> nonetheless, i’m so happy to finally be finished with it, and share it all with you guys! thank you so much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! special shoutout to j for being my beacon of encouragement when writing this, love u bae!
> 
> please drop a comment with your reactions, it always makes me happy to see :) stay safe, and i hope you enjoyed nomin’s barbie princess journey!
> 
> [twt](https://twitter.com/lumheis)  
> [cc](https://curiouscat.qa/lumheis)


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